Retrieval
by Kegel
Summary: Greg decides that it is Sara’s turn to try and save what is between them, but when Greg is taken away from her, the only thing that remains from him are letters full of madeup memories. Sequel to ‘Hidden Damages’. SaraGreg
1. What is now

**Retrieval**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own CSI.

**Summary: **Greg decides that it is Sara's turn to try and save what is between them, but when Greg is taken away from her, the only thing that remains from him are letters full of made-up memories. Sequel to 'Hidden Damages'. SaraGreg.

**Rating: **T

**A/N: **Updating on all my stories will go a little slower in the next weeks, but maybe some encouragement will make it faster. :D

Thanks to Jenny for betareading!

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**Chapter 1: What is now**

"It's your turn to answer, Greg," Nick said beaming, while Greg leaned back in his chair expectantly. Nick smirked at Warrick who took the hint.

"Have you ever been asked out by a hot girl and said no?" Warrick wanted to know, grinning at both of his colleagues who were sitting with him at the table in the break room of the crime lab while Sara was browsing through a file sitting on the couch.

"Yeah," Greg answered, taking a bit from his sandwich, hoping to hide his embarrassment. He glanced nervously at Sara who had not even looked up. Greg was not even sure if she was listening to the game her co-workers were playing during their break. She was on break as well, but still absorbed in her work, as she had been even more than usual in the last two months, since she had asked Greg out and he had said no.

Warrick and Nick were smirking.

"So you think we believe that? You really chucked away the chance to take out a lady?" Warrick asked incredulously.

Greg sighed. "I did. And come on, I even believed you when you said no on the question if you've ever gone out with two girls at once." He shook his head.

"Hey, you have to give me some credit," Warrick protested, but Nick interjected him.

"And have you ever regretted that you said no?" he asked Greg curiously. His younger colleague suddenly studied his half-eaten sandwich closely.

"Only one question a turn," he grumbled then, and Nick turned to Warrick with a knowing smile.

"Your turn, Nick."

At this moment Sara jumped up from the couch, closing the file in her hand hastily.

"Could you maybe finish your childish game? There's enough work to do," she said, sounding unnerved. The only response she got was a surprised, sudden silence from her co-workers on that she marched off, mumbling something to herself.

"Wow, Sara's in a bad mood today," Nick stated the obvious and Warrick nodded.

"She's one of those poor girls, you know," he said, Nick and Greg turning to him curiously. "Asked out a guy who said no," Warrick specified, causing Greg to frown. They could not know… He had not mentioned it to them, and he was sure that Sara had not done so either.

Nick nodded. "Grissom." Greg shook his head slightly to himself at the stupid idea he had had that they could talk about him. Grissom of course. Everybody had heard it through the grapevine that Sara had asked her boss out after the lab explosion. Even Greg had learned about it after he had been back at work.

Greg doubted very much that Sara had been so upset just some moments ago because of that thing that was years ago. If her bad temper had actually something to do with the question-and-answer game he, Nick and Warrick had been playing, it was more likely because of the thing between Sara and him.

Greg could answer Nick's question silently, to himself. He did not regret that he had turned Sara down. In all the years before he would have never thought that he would do that; but at the moment when she had asked him out he had not been able, or willing for that matter, to forgive her so quickly or so much that he could accept her offer. He did not hold a grudge against her; it was not his manner at all to do that. But her assumption that he would forgive her so easily and that they could just continue where they had stopped before everything that had damaged their relationship had happened, had angered him.

Sara had never actually apologized to him and had acted as if he was a guy who would take any chance to go out with her, no matter the situation. She had never said that she was sorry about making a false report on him to Grissom, that she had managed to get Greg into trouble to satisfy her own anger at first and later because she was too stubborn to take it back.

As he, Nick and Warrick had kind of lost track and interest on their game, and their break was anyway over, Greg got up from his chair, frowning at the pitiful rest of his sandwich.

Sighing he realized that he actually had to search for Sara, as he was supposed to catch up on a case she was working on, after he had closed a case earlier that night he had been working with Nick and Warrick.

He looked for her for several minutes, before he stopped dead in front of the trace lab, hearing Hodges' voice coming out of it.

"I heard Sanders will work with you on the case now?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sara answered, sounding absent-mindedly, probably reading a paper with results.

"It's probably unnerving to have him around again?" Hodges assumed and Greg rolled his eyes.

"Actually not. Greg's doing a great job and I enjoy working with him," Sara responded rather calmly and it sounded as if she was crushing the paper against something or someone. Greg was definitely pleased to hear that she thought he was doing well, even if she only said it to Hodges.

"I heard something else, about what he did-," the trace tech didn't give up.

"Then you heard wrong, Greg hasn't done anything wrong," Sara said in a tone that made clear that the conversation was finished. Before Greg could shake his head long about the fact that Sara had never admitted towards him that he had not done anything wrong, but that she now willingly did it towards Hodges, he remembered to move away from the lab. Sara was just bolting out of it and he did not want to get caught eavesdropping. When Sara stepped out of the room, Greg managed to make it look as if he was just coming up towards the trace lab from the hallway.

"Hey," Sara tried a half-smile that Greg returned. "Time to get you caught up on the case," she suggested and Greg nodded.

It was not like they could not work or talk with each other. Greg had made very sure that Sara realized that his refusal to repeat the first date they had had before everything had gone down the drain, did not mean that he did not want to be friends with her. He really wanted that they stayed that. What had annoyed him at her dare to ask him out again was that after she had blown him his friendship into his face, she had actually acted as if she wanted to go even a step beyond being friends, when that had to be rebuilt in the first place.

Greg and Sara seated themselves into a quiet room, Sara bringing along all files and results that were related to her case. She gave him a short overview about everything and answered some question he had.

"We can't exactly call it a serial by now, as it were only two so far. Hopefully there won't come more, but it's a definite possibility that there will," Sara explained.

"So the link between both cases is that it were both young Asian women, strangled, deposed in houses that are ripe for demolition?" Greg tried to clarify.

"Exactly."

"And where are we going from here?"

Sara leaned over the table to pick up a file, finally brushing past Greg to reach it.

Greg felt that there was tension between them, but it was not even unpleasant.

"Well, I've gone over both places with a tooth brush," Sara told him, smiling at him faintly. "It's difficult though to distinguish what is evidence from what has been there before the deposition of the bodies," she continued, frowning thoughtfully. Greg suddenly jumped up.

"I'll go and get the evidence box," he declared, turning to get out of the room.

"It's more like boxes," Sara corrected him. "It's a lot of stuff." She dropped the file she had been holding and stood up as well. "I'll help you."

Greg shook his head quickly. "I'll manage."

He hurried out of the room, ignoring Sara's frown. He had to get away from her for some minutes, knowing that he was giving in. It was not like she had said or done anything about it, but Greg still thought of - and felt - what could have been between them, if things had gone differently.

He could not forget about their first date. He had tried to, but had failed miserably. While Greg did not regret that he had refused to go out with Sara again two months ago, it was not because he did not see anything between them anymore. He did not consider it settled once and for all, it was not over for good.

He had told Sara that he did not think they could make the thing between them work. And what he had meant was that he thought that it would not work unless they sorted out the problems between them, and in this matter it was definitely Sara's turn.

**TBC**


	2. What was then

**A/N: **I'm glad people enjoyed the first chapter. This here will probably be the last update on all of my stories until mid of July, after my graduation.

Thanks to Jenny again for betareading!

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**Chapter 2: What was then **

Greg piled the third evidence box on top of the two others, lifting them all together. Maybe it would have been better, after all, if he had let Sara help him. Trying hard to keep the boxes balanced, he made his way back to the room where Sara was waiting for him. He pushed the door open with one foot, stepping into the room in one swift motion. It was when the door swung back and hit his left shoulder that he finally lost balance over what he was carrying.

"Be careful," Sara exclaimed. A moment later she was holding the box that had slid down into Sara's grasp.

"Sorry." He put the two remaining boxes on the table where already the files Sara had spread out were lying. He missed Sara's small grin behind him.

"I could've helped, you know," she said, sounding slightly amused. Greg turned around to her, without getting the chance to reply anything. "Yeah, I know that you don't like asking for help," Sara added and Greg shook his head.

"It wasn't about that," he replied truthfully.

Sara's smile faltered. "It's because you don't want me to help you," she said quietly. Then she nodded, smiling forcedly. "It's okay." With that she set the box she had been holding on the table and continued with putting on gloves.

"Sara, I just thought I can do it alone. It has nothing to do with you," Greg told her now. Actually it had something to do with her, but not in the way she was thinking. He had sat down at the table, now laying his hands on it, looking at Sara earnestly. "I know that not everything has gone smoothly in the last weeks," he said, "but I want to work with you."

Sara bit on her lip, pretending to read the label on the box in front of her, while Greg continued watching her.

What Greg really wanted was to walk over to her and take her into his arms and forget about everything that had happened. But he couldn't. He was sure that Sara knew how much she had hurt him. And if the whole thing between them was not even important enough to her that she couldn't take the step and make it up with him, how could he simply forget about everything?

"You don't have to lie, Greg," Sara said now. "I can ask Grissom to not team us anymore."

Greg shoved one of the boxes over the table towards her, sighing unbelieving.

"This is the stuff from the first scene," he said, and Sara looked up. "And I didn't lie," he added firmly. He put on gloves like Sara had done some minutes earlier, opening the remaining evidence box. "Let's just get this case solved," he suggested softly and Sara nodded, following his example and opening the box in front of her.

"Apart from that," Greg finally added, "it is your turn."

Sara looked at him puzzled, but Greg only took out several evidence bags, continuing his work, and after watching him for a moment, Sara did so as well.

* * *

It was several days later before Greg and Sara came to realize that their case had turned cold. Sara admitted it only reluctantly but agreed then with Greg that they had no other choice than to put it aside for the time being until a new lead showed up, worst case being a new victim.

They had both told Grissom about their conclusion and he had sent them home in the morning. Now, a little more than half a day later, they were both sitting in the conference room at the beginning of their shift, while Catherine, Warrick and Nick were already out on assignments and Grissom told them, or rather Sara, about the stabbing of a member of the city council.

"How much has already gotten out to the public?" Sara wanted to know.

"The media knew earlier about it than we did," Grissom replied flatly and Sara nodded understanding.

"You realize that this is a high-profile case and that people will expect quick results?" her boss asked and Sara nodded again.

"I can handle that."

"I know you can," Grissom confirmed and shoved some papers aside, Sara smiling briefly at his affirmation while Greg studied his shoe-laces interestedly.

"Nick should be able to work his case alone. You can have Warrick to help you out," Grissom declared then, but Sara hesitated this time.

"I want Greg," she said finally and Greg could not avoid hearing a double sense in her words and tone, causing him to shake his head at himself, unnoticed by the other two persons in the room.

"Are you sure?" Grissom asked her and Greg frowned at his boss' apparent ignorance of Greg being in the room as well.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed her request. "He's doing a great job, you know that, and I think we'll both be able to handle that case."

Grissom nodded. "But if you realize that-," he started with another objection, but Greg interrupted him, waving with his arms.

"I'm here, too, you know," he stated slightly irritated, causing Sara and Grissom to turn their heads to him, apparently surprised. Greg shrugged. "I can wait outside, if you want to discuss me further," he tried to sound amused rather than irritated.

"No, Greg," Grissom replied, handing Sara the assignment slip. "You and Greg will work the case, but tell me if you need help."

Both Greg and Sara nodded and Sara took the lead, walking out of the room, Greg following her.

"When I said it's your turn, I didn't mean that you have to do me favors," Greg called after her.

Sara slowed down, looking at him. "It wasn't a favor. You're really doing a great job," she said and Greg was surprised that she finally told him that as well, although he probably had to give her some credit. It was not the first time that she was encouraging him after all.

"And I really want you to work that case," she added, before falling silent again.

Some seconds later she stopped walking at all though, turning around to Greg.

"But… what is it what you want me to do then?" she asked directly.

Greg rubbed his forehead briefly, pondering how to explain it to her. He decided to start at the beginning.

"Sara, you know that it was highly unfair what you did?" It was actually the first time that he put it so clearly.

Sara avoided his gaze. "Yeah," she admitted finally in a quiet voice.

"And then you didn't even try to help me out of the trouble you had gotten me in," Greg continued, the old bitterness coming up again.

Sara looked at him, her brows furrowed and she was apparently close to tears. Greg hoped that she would not start crying; otherwise he would not be able to guarantee that he would not simply take her into his arms, trying to soothe her. He did not want to do that; he did not want to give in so easily. If Sara could be so stubborn, he could as well.

"I never heard anything about you being sorry. You only… asked me out," Greg said, emphasizing the last words in an unbelieving tone, shaking his head. "Did you think I would just forget about everything?"

By that time Sara let her shoulders hanging, avoiding Greg's gaze again.

"I just didn't want that everything between us is over," she said quietly. "I know that it is-"

Greg shook his head again. "It's not over, Sara."

She looked at him unbelievingly.

"Greg, I'm so sorry," she admitted finally, after she had not done so for more than two months. "I'm so sorry for what I did, that I reported you, I'm so sorry that I got you into trouble when you only tried to help me, I'm sorry and I can understand if you hate me for all of it," she rambled, and Greg's resolution was crumbling to pieces eventually.

He hugged her, it was the first time in a long while; he had not even done so when he had visited her in the hospital after she had been injured.

Sara sniffed into his shoulder and Greg realized only now how much all of that had been affecting her. Ever since it had started, ever since he had turned her down, she had pretended quite successfully that she did not care, apart from some minor slips like some days ago.

"I don't hate you, I never could," he assured her, rubbing her back. He did not say more, afraid of taking it too far for the time being. He let go of her instead, looking into her teary face.

"Let's get to our scene, okay?" he suggested. "But you have to get cleaned up a little before. You never know if not some nosy reporter wants an interview," he said, half in joke, succeeding in bringing out a faint smile on her face.

**TBC **


	3. What to say

**Thanks to Emmithar for betareading.**

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**Chapter 3: What to say**

When Greg and Sara arrived at the scene half an hour later, nobody would have been able to guess that Sara had been very upset only a short while ago, or that she had even cried. She had composed herself quickly, vanishing into the restroom for some minutes, before she and Greg had left the lab. Now she was displaying the rather tough, professional investigator again that most people knew her as, and didn't mention anything about the earlier encounter between her and Greg anymore.

Greg watched her when she was talking to the officer at the scene. She appeared to be completely calm. When she turned her head slightly in his direction, he looked away, trying to concentrate on his task of taking overview pictures of the hall in that the victim had been found. Some minutes later Sara came over to him, when he was already busy taking pictures of the body. She crouched down next to him, looking at him for a second.

"Can you go and take the outside, please?" she asked. "I'll take care of the inside."

Greg took another picture before he looked up at her.

"So you want to leave me to the mob instead of going yourself?" he returned, referring to the dozens of reporters and onlookers who had assembled outside of the premise.

"Well, if they bother you, just tell them that you're not the one in charge and that you would really break your orders if you told them anything," Sara suggested, lifting her eyebrows for a moment, giving him an ironically questioning expression and Greg grinned briefly, understanding her joke. Other people might have conceived it as improper that she was talking about the issue of their fight, the reason for their problematic relationship, in jest now, but Greg was not opposed to it. Sara had apologized, even though it had taken her more than two months. And he had seen how much the whole thing affected her. If she was now trying to mend their relationship that had usually been a light and bantering one, he was all for it, even though, and maybe even more when she still acknowledged their problems.

Following Sara's request he made his way outside, working his way from the exit of the house to the fencing of the premise, trying his best to ignore the noise and occasional questions coming from the crowd of people.

It took Greg and Sara almost the whole night to process the scene and the bulk of people got only slightly smaller when some onlookers realized that there was nothing to see. Some uproar started in the crowd when the coroner came to take away the body. These were the only things Greg acknowledged from the audience he had, too absorbed into his work to pay attention to more. He saw Sara only for short moments during the night as she was busy inside the house while he had more than enough to do with searching the surroundings and securing possible evidence there.

When he was finally finished he made his way back into the house, some reporters who were still holding out calling after him. He found Sara in the hall again where she was obviously getting a last overview over the actual crime scene. When she noticed his presence, she turned to him, smiling slightly.

"You ready?"

He nodded.

"Well, I'm finished too, so let's get back to the lab. I guess we have still some work to do before we can even think of going home," she said, finally closing her kit, and walking over to where he was standing in the entrance.

"I'll drive," she stated, and added quickly, explanatorily, "I want to take a quick stop somewhere."

"I can still drive," Greg argued.

"Do you want to discuss this out?" Sara pursed her lips.

"Not really."

The drive back was one of the most enjoyable Greg had experienced during the last months, as he and Sara were on talking levels again that went beyond conversation about work-related matters and snide remarks. He had missed the banter and ease between them, and while he knew that they had not worked out everything by now, they had definitely taken a step forward, something he had not dared to hope for only maybe a week ago when he had slowly come to the bitter convincement that Sara would never try to make it up with him and that they would stay in this ruined state of a relationship forever. Now they were talking and joking again and Greg could not have been happier.

Sara made her notice true and stopped not far away from the lab. She quickly got off the car, without explaining Greg where she was going, only telling him that she would be back in a moment. Two or three minutes later she returned indeed, carrying a filled paper bag and seated herself into the driver's seat again.

"What's that?" Greg wanted to know.

"Breakfast."

"Ah."

She started the engine again, pulling into traffic, before she explained, "I thought we could have breakfast together. At the lab."

"Sure." It was not something Greg did not do all the time with his co-workers, although he knew that Sara meant it deeper. When she had asked him out for dinner two months ago, he had turned her down. It had been the low point of their relationship. Now they were making progress again and Greg had made it clear that he did not see the thing between them over, probably fueling Sara's hopes again, even though she did obviously not dare to say anything directly by now, fearing another rejection, maybe only because she might be too fast too soon.

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Sara opened the paper bag in her hands, sinking slowly down on a chair in the break room. She reached into the bag to take out the bagels she had bought for Greg, remembering his favorite sort well enough. He settled down next to her and began to eat greedily. 

"I'm starving," he managed to bring out between two bites.

Sara had watched him amused. "I see that." She reached into the bag again to take out the remaining content. "I have more," she announced with an unusual cheeriness, uplifted by the progress of the night, showing him two large muffins she had bought for the both of them. Greg took one eagerly, already almost finished with his first bagel before Sara had even started.

"So anything new with you?" Greg asked now, still chewing. "I mean, we didn't really talk lately," he added quietly.

"Not much," Sara shrugged. Then she smiled. "I have a cat now."

"You have?" Greg let out a small grin.

"Yeah, so I have at least a little company. I mean I've been living alone all the time," Sara explained quietly. "And she doesn't mind being alone when I'm at work for long hours:"

"The poor cat. Is alone 24/7," Greg joked.

"Hey," Sara protested. "I'm not that bad." She thought she heard something like "Close to" between Greg's bite into his muffin and a sip from his coffee. It was probably the right moment.

"So what do you think?" she asked, sounding calmer than she actually felt. Greg took another sip from his coffee, showing that he had understood what she was talking about.

"We'll have to see. I mean you know that not everything's hashed out yet."

"Yeah," Sara confirmed, "I just think it's kinda your decision, you know," she added softly.

Greg did not completely see it like that. Even though it had been indeed her fault that things had become so tense between them, she still had a saying in where they were going with this, although it was somewhat Greg's decision if he was ready to try it again, as he had turned her down with good reason.

"Before we try anything… I just have to know that I can trust you… that you'll not throw our relationship into my face at work one day," he tried to explain her. He finished eating his muffin, waiting for her answer.

Sara looked at him. She was about to start with a long, explaining, ensuring answer. "You can," she said simply instead of that, sounding decidedly.

Greg stood up, waiting another moment before he answered. "Good." He smiled at her before he walked out of the room, leaving Sara behind, who leaned back in her chair, finally taking more than a small bite from her food.

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Greg returned some minutes later when Sara was just washing up their two cups. 

"Wendy says there's no point in hanging in here any longer today. They are all so swamped that there won't be any results for us no matter how hot our case is," he told her, shrugging. Sara nodded.

"I'll head home then," Greg declared. Sara turned off the water of the sink.

"I'll just finish some paper-work then I'm headed out as well." She looked as if she wanted to say more. Greg suspected a suggestion to meet for dinner, but it did not come.

"See you tonight," Sara said instead.

"See you," Greg returned and walked off, turned around again briefly though and signed her to call him, causing Sara to laugh warmly.

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The sun was just rising when Greg walked over the parking lot. He would be home early for once, it was only a drop in the bucket against his piled up overtime though. He opened the door of his car, climbing into the driver's seat. 

Greg started the engine and that was the moment when he heard the voice coming from the backseat, and felt how the barrel of a gun was pressed against the back of his head.

"Just drive. Quickly. And no stupid moves."

**TBC **


	4. Where to go

**Thanks to Emmithar for betareading. **

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**Chapter 4: Where to go**

Greg grasped the steering wheel tightly.

"Drive," repeated the woman in the backseat. Greg pressed down on the gas pedal and drove quickly off the parking lot. He merged into traffic and the woman told him to keep going straight ahead. Greg did as he was told, wondering how he could get help in order to get out of this situation.

"What do you want?" he finally asked.

"You actually," his opponent replied calmly. She gave him directions through the city which he followed.

"I don't know you, so I don't think you know me either," he objected to her answer. The woman did not reply at first and Greg had already intended not to ask anymore, when she finally answered.

"I don't really know you, that's true. But there'll be time to get to know each other." She made as pause as if she was considering something. "I did actually not care who of you I would get. I didn't know whose car this was until you came up to it."

Greg frowned, having no idea what to say to that. He assumed that she meant him and his co-workers and he did not really like the idea. This meant that there was nothing personal that made her do what she did. But it probably did not make him very valuable or special to her either, which was not good in prolonging his possible survival time in a situation like this. Greg took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

"It was clear that it was somebody from the nightshift. The car had been standing there since last night," the woman rambled on. "I wanted one of the guys, not the old one though." She paused briefly. "What use would I have from one of the girls?" she asked, and Greg wondered if she actually expected him to answer. He was still struggling for a reply, when the still unknown woman continued.

"They can be lucky that it wasn't one of the girls' car, otherwise they could investigate a murder in their own parking lot," she was laughing about what Greg hoped had been a bad joke. They drove some more minutes in silence before Greg received instructions again, until they finally pulled up in front of a garage in a lonesome area. To his distress Greg did not see a single person outside on the street.

"Get out," the woman told him finally. Greg shut off the engine and opened the door on the driver's seat carefully, wondering how realistic and how dangerous it would be to run off. The woman was out quickly though and the gun she was holding into the general direction of him convinced Greg fast enough that running was an unwise idea.

"Do you need any of your stuff urgently?" she asked him now. "I don't mean things like cell-phones or guns," she laughed again.

"I don't have a gun," Greg managed to blurt out quickly, wondering if he had just said the stupidest thing he could have ever thought of.

She ignored his interjection. "I mean, do you need any medication regularly?" she wanted to know. Greg realized too late that a confirming answer might have been helpful but he was already shaking his head.

"Good," was the only comment. The woman reached into her pants pocket and got out a key that she threw towards Greg. It fell down to earth and Greg was motioned to pick it up. He crouched down and took the key, trembling slightly, watching the gun nervously. The woman pointed towards the garage.

"Open the door."

Greg walked over to the building slowly, very unhappy with the fact that he had to turn his back to his kidnapper again. He unlocked the door and opened it nervously. Not really surprised, Greg found a car standing inside the garage. Greg turned around to the woman, expecting her to order him to get into the car, figuring that they were simply changing cars. She did not say anything though but approached a scared Greg with her gun lifted and urged him to the passenger's side of the car.

"Open the door," she said and Greg realized that the door was not locked.

"Sit down." When Greg had seated himself into the car, he noticed to his great wonder the big luggage on the backseat, and to his even greater worry the handcuffs that were fixed to the plastic bar on the door. It was all planned to a scary extend. The woman handed him another key, still holding the gun into his face.

"Cuff yourself," she said, and Greg was about to cuff his right arm reluctantly, when she shook her head.

"The other arm. I don't want that you're tempted to interfere with my driving," she chuckled to herself again. Greg sighed non-audibly and reached with his left arm over his chest so that he was able to cuff it to the door. It was already now very uncomfortable and Greg was not looking forward to how it would feel if he had to stay in this position for long. The woman shut the door roughly what made Greg's position a little more comfortable as he did not have to reach out so far anymore. Before long, his kidnapper had seated herself into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Oh, before I forget: As I don't want you to fall out, the child safety is enabled," she told Greg. He had not really planned to open the door. What use would it be to him? He was cuffed to the door, the farthest he would get away was by falling out, an idea he did not want to try out in a moving car.

They were out of the garage and onto the street soon and Greg threw a last look back at his car. It gave him hope that the woman had left it standing there, as it increased the possibility that the police would get notice of the place, when the car of a missing CSI was standing on it. That was… as soon as somebody actually noticed that he was gone.

Greg did not know where they were going. The woman just drove silently through Vegas, without telling him anything. Greg thought about what she had mentioned earlier. If it had been the car of one of the female CSIs or lab techs in that she had been waiting in, the Crime Lab would have had to investigate a homicide at its own parking lot. She would have killed. She would have killed Catherine or Sara or another female employee of the lab. And Greg wondered how long he would survive the whole mess.

This last night he had spent working with Sara had been good, the progress they had made, and the joy he had felt, seemed very far away now. It did not feel like it had happened just a few hours ago, but like a long time ago. A long time ago when he had still been carefree. Carefree at least in relation to the deathly situation he was in now.

When would somebody notice that he was gone? It had been the end of their shift. Everybody would expect him to be home and sleeping, nobody would wonder about where he was. Greg had encouraged Sara to call him. But she would hardly do so at a time when he would usually be sleeping. It was a question if she would try to call him at all. Even if she did, it would not help him. His cell phone was left back in his own car. If Sara did not reach him, she would not think further about it. And he doubted she would try it again and again. It would actually surprise him, if she decided to call at all. If she would want to call at that point, at that state of their relationship. It all would not help anyway.

The earliest time anybody would notice that Greg was not where he belonged, would be at the beginning of the shift tomorrow night. Then somebody would maybe try to call him and would not reach him. Then people would start to wonder. Until he would be officially missing, still more time would pass. Too much time for Greg's liking. By then he could be far away, or dead, a possibility Greg quickly banished from his head again. Thinking like that would not help at all.

They had left Las Vegas in the meantime, and it was now that the woman was obviously paying more attention to Greg again. He shifted uncomfortably, his left arm that was cuffed to the door on his right side aching heavily by now.

"So about your job…," she started suddenly, after she had not said anything for what seemed like hours to Greg. Her tone was chatty, friendly almost, as if they were in an everyday conversation. "You investigate homicides, don't you?" she asked lightly.

"Yeah," Greg answered simply. She knew that already as far as he could tell from her earlier comments.

"And, do you have a lot of bodies to work on?" The woman looked at him curiously, amused almost.

"More than enough." Greg shifted again in his seat. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"And you don't want to be added to those, I guess?" she asked in a joking tone, causing herself to laugh again, making Greg frowning briefly. That woman was acting as if they were on a joyride. Maybe it was one for her, but it definitely was not for Greg.

**TBC **


	5. Where we are

**Despite the appearance of it... I am not thoroughly evil... I'm just living it out on Greg right now. **

**Thanks to Emmithar for betareading! **

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**Chapter 5: Where we are**

Sara closed the door of her apartment behind her. Before she even had the chance of undressing, her cat was walking up to her, huddling against Sara's legs. Sara crouched down to ruffle her, taking off her shoes then. She made her way into her kitchen, her cat following her eagerly. It was a little later than the normal time for her food, and the cat started gorging greedily once Sara had filled her dish.

Sara herself wasn't really hungry. It was only a couple of hours ago that she and Greg had had breakfast. Checking her watch she realized that it was definitely too early to call him. The morning had already proceeded quickly, but Greg was probably still sleeping right now. The best idea was certainly to get some sleep herself and to call him later.

She had been more than glad when he had kind of asked her to call him, especially in the lighthearted way they had been then. Sara smiled. Maybe she had not destroyed everything between them like she had feared she had.

She changed into a nightgown and made her way into her bedroom, followed by her satisfied, purring cat that took a leap, landed on Sara's pillow and made herself comfortable there.

"Hey, that's my place," Sara objected and picked up the cat who briefly protested meowing. Sara sat down on her bed, crossed her legs, setting the cat in her lap. The animal was satisfied with the compromise and had started purring again.

Sara wondered what to tell Greg when she would call him later on. She could invite him for dinner, hoping that he would not see that as crossing the line. Sara remembered clearly the painful situation two months ago when Greg had turned down her invitation. Of course, she had chosen the completely wrong moment to ask back then, even though it had been in an attempt to repair things between them.

They had made progress since then. Sara had been somewhat embarrassed when she had been all worked up last night, when she had shown Greg how much all of it actually affected her, but then she had gladly taken comfort in him. And Greg had said that it was not over. He just wanted to know that he could trust her.

Setting her cat finally on the floor next to the bed, Sara decided to go ahead and invite Greg to grab some food for dinner. She was almost certain that he would not refuse it. Greg was not the type of person to turn her down again, if there wasn't a really good reason for it. He had been really hurt two months ago, understandably as Sara had to admit.

Some minutes later she was fast asleep, while her cat had re-conquered a spot on the bed.

* * *

They had driven for hours. The woman hadn't told Greg much, not even so much as her name, or at least some name at all, but had not remained silent for most of the journey either. She had chatted rather cheerfully about various topics but had not really expected Greg to participate in the conversation. Sometimes she hadn't said anything for a longer time though, so that Greg had even fallen into a light slumber then, despite the fear and anxiety he was feeling. He was tired, having gotten no sleep this day, and the monotony of the drive had done the rest.

Now Greg had been awake again for some time, watching again the driver of the car, still trying to think of a way to get out. There wasn't anything he could do. He was cuffed to the door, the door was locked and his kidnapper threatened him with a gun, if he ever dared to make a wrong move.

They had left Las Vegas behind them, taking a northern route. The woman had not told him where they were going, so Greg could only wait. His predominant worry increased when they left the main road by the afternoon, taking some smaller streets that led them finally into a woody area. They drove on for a while, before the woman turned down a forest road. Some minutes later she stopped the car and Greg felt panic rise as he realized that this was the perfect place to get rid of something… or someone. Greg felt his heart beating at an unreasonable speed when his capturer turned off the engine. What use did she have from kidnapping him and bringing him here to kill him?

The woman did not say anything but got out of the car quickly and walked to the back of it, watched nervously by a scared Greg. She opened the trunk and started rummaging through it. Half a minute later she slammed the trunk shut, making Greg jump, his nerves being strained to no end. She seated herself in the driver's seat again and handed Greg to his greatest surprise a sandwich, smiling friendly.

"You have to be hungry," she said sympathetically, making Greg frown. He took the food hesitatingly, watching how she started eating a sandwich of her own. Apparently she did not plan to kill him right now, why would she give him to eat otherwise?

Greg started eating slowly, chewing then more and more quickly, as he was really hungry, his breakfast with Sara being too long ago. The woman had went outside again, this time opening the back door of the car, taking something out of one of the bags on the backseat. She sat down next to Greg again, watching how he finished his sandwich. She opened a bottle of water, handing it to Greg. He drank, still suspiciously though. She took it back and closed it, then handing Greg a note pad and a pen. Greg laid the pad on his legs, wondering what she wanted him to do.

"Isn't it practical that your left arm is cuffed and not your right?" she asked cheerfully. "You can much better write this way."

Greg looked at her unbelievingly.

"Write," she said.

"What?"

"Just write to your friends back at the lab," she replied, motioning him to start writing. Greg swallowed on the fact that she obviously wanted him to write his goodbyes to his friends. In the uncomfortable position he was still sitting he set the pen on the paper in his lap troublesomely, his cuffed left arm being somewhat in the way. Greg closed his eyes, not wanting to believe that it was going to end soon.

"Tell them that you're fine," the woman's voice jerked him out of his thoughts. "We don't want them to worry," she added, again scarily friendly. Greg was confused to no end, but started writing something, ending it soon though. He did not want to write his goodbyes quite yet, so he left it at some basics and what his capturer had told him to write. The woman took the note pad eagerly and read it smiling.

Once again she got out of the car and rummaged again in the trunk. This time she did not get back into the car though but walked around to Greg's side, confirming his fear. She unlocked the door and opened it a bit, freed Greg then, holding the gun quickly into his face again. Greg was holding his left arm that had gotten somewhat numb, and was staring at his capturer. She stepped back a bit, opening the door wider.

"Get out," she ordered and not much of her earlier friendliness was left. Greg did not want to. He did not want to get out and make it easy for her. He did not want that she could just kill him and leave him there lying in the wood.

"You don't want to do that," Greg objected. "You enjoyed the drive quite a bit so far, didn't you?" he rambled helplessly. "You don't want to end it quite yet…"

"Get out," the woman repeated impatiently and Greg realized that he did not have a choice. His only hope was that he would find a way to run. He almost laughed at that thought, knowing too well that he would not be able to outrun a bullet from his capturer's gun. Reluctantly Greg got up and stepped out of the car.

* * *

Sara woke up with a start, her cat falling from where she had been lying on Sara's stomach with a meowing protest. Even after all the years she had worked in her job, some pictures of her daily work still ingrained themselves into Sara's mind, coming back in a confusing and unsettling mixture in her dreams, until finally waking her up. Actually Sara was then usually glad that she had woken up, as the dreams could be so bad sometimes that the only thing that could bring relief was the realization that it had been only nightmares that came with waking.

Sara checked the digital clock on her bedside and realized that she had still enough time to get some more sleep. She knew too well though that going back to sleep after an especially bad nightmare would only mean going back into a restless sleep. So she got up and made her way into her kitchen, wondering if it was too early to call Greg. Starting to brew some coffee, she decided to wait a little longer.

An hour later, she picked up her phone though, dialing the number of Greg's home phone. Sara let it ring for several times and finally heard Greg's cheerful voice, only to realize that it was the message on his answering machine. She was not in the mood to leave a message, wanting much more to talk to Greg himself, so she shut off the call. It was still quite early, but there was the definite possibility that Greg had not slept long and was already out again. Sara dialed his cell-phone next, optimistic to reach him there. It was not shut off, so much she could tell quickly. Again she let it ring and again she was only greeted by a voice message.

Sara shut off the call, surprisingly disappointed. What had she expected from the call anyway? She would see Greg tonight at work. Sara was a little annoyed with herself that she was so unreasonably disappointed. Greg was probably just still sleeping, nothing else.

**TBC**


	6. Where he is

**A/N: We have determined by now that the kidnapper is the twin of Jenny's evil capturer in her story "Capture". If you haven't read that one yet, I would suggest doing so anyway. :D Maybe not right after breakfast that is. :P**

**Thanks to Emmithar for betareading!**

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**Chapter 6: Where he is**

Greg stepped out of the car trembling.

"Come, I don't want to clean out my car afterwards," his capturer chuckled, being back to her earlier cheerfulness once Greg was out of the vehicle.

"You don't have to do that," Greg told her again, unbelieving that she could be so cheerful about the situation. "We can find another solution…"

The woman looked at him puzzled and Greg hoped that he had found a way to break through to her. Before he could say anything else, she pointed at a scrub some feet away from where they were standing.

"Do you see the bush?" she asked. Greg nodded confused.

"Go for your pee there," she said, and added smiling, "but don't dare to run."

Greg stood still nailed to the spot for some more seconds, the understanding of the situation dawning only slowly, but when the woman was suddenly shortening the distance between them, only to brush past him then, he finally moved as well, making his way over to the selected plant, carefully looking back over his shoulder. She was again taking something out of her trunk and Greg thought about running but then she quickly shut the trunk, watching him again.

He cowered behind the bush, taking a moment to himself. He was scared, he was scared to death, and he knew that he had to get the woman to talk, to at least tell him what her plan was, what she wanted; otherwise he would just go crazy out of fear when situations like this one repeated.

"You ready?" the woman called after a few minutes and Greg called back affirmatively, standing up and making his way back reluctantly. He had almost reached the car, when she told him to stop.

"Stay there. I had a neat idea," she said. Before Greg could ask, or worry, about her idea, she raised a camera.

"Smile." She pressed the release and a split second later Greg was dazzled by the flash. Much to his surprise the picture came directly out of the camera, and he realized that it was an old instant picture camera.

"Isn't that nice?" the woman said, holding up the picture.

"What do you want?" Greg asked now straight-forwardly. She was definitely not right in her head, that much was clear.

"Send it with your letter to your lab of course," she replied, giving Greg the answer to a question he had not even asked. She smiled again. "Get back into the car now."

Greg stared at her. "No, I mean… what do you want with me? Why are you doing this?" He had not dared to ask so far, but now that his nerves were strained to no end he could not help anymore but to blurt out the questions in his head.

She looked at him puzzled. "Why not?" she returned, apparently confused. Greg sighed quietly, trying to remain calm.

"Why did you kidnap me? Why are you threatening me with a gun? This is not right," he said, feeling somewhat stupid to tell her that. His opponent frowned, but broke then into a smile again which Greg did not like at all.

"Without the gun you would just run away, wouldn't you?" she chuckled again. Greg rubbed his forehead.

"When do you plan on letting me go?" he tried it this way, causing the woman to laugh again as if he had said something very funny.

"That's not planned," she answered then simply, motioning him to get back into the car, emphasizing it by raising the gun at him again.

* * *

Sara walked into the locker room, trying to finally get rid of the disappointment she had felt during the day.

It wasn't normal. And she should know better after all that she had experienced in the last years in the lab. She should know better than to let a failed pass at somebody frustrate her so much. Especially as it was not even like that. Greg hadn't turned her down, apart from the one time two months ago that was, when he had had an understandable reason for it. She just hadn't gotten to talk to him today. Sara told herself that it was more than unreasonable to feel somewhat angry at him, he had probably a very good reason that she could not reach him. And actually he did not even need a good reason. It wasn't like they were a couple or something, and even if they were, she would not have the right to know where he was every single minute.

Sara shook her head sadly. Opening her locker she realized that it was certainly better if she just concentrated on her work again, seeing how much the other thing was driving her insane already. She could be friendly with Greg, they were on good terms with each other again, so everything was alright. There wasn't a need to risk that their relationship would go downwards again, or that it would drive one or both of them crazy, or worse, that it would even affect their work.

Sara made her way to the pre-shift meeting, and saw that Greg was not there, while the rest of their team was wandering in one after the other. He was still not there when Grissom came in, closing the door behind him. Sara frowned. Had Greg said something about a day off? She didn't think so, and as they were both still assigned to the homicide of that city council member she would have been informed if he'd taken a day off, at least she was supposed to be informed.

Grissom was now obviously noticing the absence of one of the members of his team as well, as he was looking around, frowning.

"Where's Greg?" he wanted to know, causing several people to shrug. Expectably he was looking at Sara next.

"I don't know," she said simply, glancing at the door as if expecting to see Greg coming in. Grissom frowned disapproving and Sara thought that Greg better hurried to make his appearance in the lab for his own well-being.

Grissom distributed assignments, giving Sara none though.

"Can you handle your case alone?" he wanted to know.

"Sure." She wanted to get up, but Grissom continued.

"Call Greg, if he isn't here in fifteen, and tell him to get here quickly."

Sara nodded, having no other intention herself. She left the room and was already dialing Greg's number when she entered the hallway, despite that Grissom had told her to wait another fifteen minutes.

Just as she had not reached him on his home phone nor on is cell-phone during the day, Sara did not get through to Greg this time either. She shook her head, now starting to worry a bit. While she could presume that he simply did not want to be reached during the day and simply did not pick up when she tried to call him, although that was against lab policy as they were supposed to be reachable all the time in case they got a big scene that needed them, this explanation was not possible for now, as it was his shift now, he just could not ignore calls from work. He could have overslept, that was a reasonable explanation although none that was typical for him.

Sara set to work, determined to call him every half an hour if necessary, something that would hopefully wake him up, if he was indeed still sleeping. If she did not reach him until the morning, until shift was over, she would drive over to him and get an explanation out of him. Sara sighed, still having to tell herself not to worry.

* * *

Greg leaned his head against the window of the car, trying to get a little sleep despite the situation that made him not feel like sleeping at all.

On the one hand he was much too afraid to fall asleep, worried about what the kidnapper could and would do when he was sleeping, on the other hand he did not have a choice. He would not be able to stay awake for days, and he did not know how long this ordeal would continue. Besides, he needed to be in a decent condition if he wanted to find a way out of this, and he would not be so, if he did not sleep.

Right now, he could not do anything. He was again cuffed to the door and the car was parked somewhere far off the beaten track, somewhere were nobody would come along at that time of night who would be able to help Greg. So he did not have a choice to do anything, and in this very moment he did not expect the woman to do anything to him. She had been friendly again during the whole evening, if you could use that word on somebody who had kidnapped him and threatened him with a gun. She had not appeared to be much clearer in the head than earlier, but had taken more measures to make sure that Greg would not be able to make himself noticed to anybody.

Before they had driven off from the place where they had made that rest earlier, she had put a large sun shield on his side of the car. Not in concern for him to get a sunburn but rather to block somewhat the sight into his side of the car, even though she could not block it completely anyway. She had avoided driving through towns, apart from the tiny town where she had thrown in Greg's letter into a post box, only stopping next to it for a second, putting in the mail and driving off again.

The fact that she had refueled the car with gas that she had brought out of a canister had shown Greg even more that she had everything well planned out, despite her apparent ignorance of her wrongdoing. Greg still did not know what she had planned for him.

After they had driven again for hours - Greg figured that they were hundreds of miles away from Las Vegas now - she had decided to settle for the night, had found a lonely spot far off the main road, and had parked the car there. Greg had gotten to eat and drink again, before she had put up a tent outside of the car, making Greg wondering and hoping that she would actually let him sleep in there outside of the car, not cuffed to anything, but that hope had been dashed soon, when she had made herself comfortable there, wishing Greg only a good night. Greg had suppressed a bitter laugh, as this was probably going to be the worst night of his life.

After it had gotten silent outside, he had checked the glove department, hoping to find anything useful there, but it had been empty. He had reached around in the car as far as he could, but had not found anything either that could help him.

So he had settled for the only alternative that had remained – trying to get some sleep. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he was almost dozed off, when the sudden opening of the door on the driver's side made him start from his slumber. He glanced over into the darkness nervously.

"I can't believe I forgot this," the woman was saying quietly. She threw something in Greg's direction and Greg noticed that it was a pillow.

"Makes it more comfortable," she added, wishing him then a good night again, before she locked the door on her side and vanished.

Greg looked at the pillow in his hands unbelieving. He pressed his head into the cushion briefly, feeling like crying on the even greater realization how crazy this person actually was, and how unpredictable.

**TBC**


	7. Who it knows

**A/N: Thanks to Emmithar for betareading.**

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**Chapter 7: Who it knows**

It was almost noon when Sara packed away the case file for the day, deciding to finally make her way home. Greg still had not shown up at the lab and Sara had not reached him on the phone either. She had made her resolution true and had called him about every half an hour, giving up on it though about 4 AM, realizing that there was no point in it as Greg was either sleeping like a stone or not near his phone at all.

Sara got her jacket out of her locker, and walked to Grissom's office then in order to tell him that she would check up on Greg at his place. She just was about to enter the office when she saw that Catherine was sitting in there. The other woman appeared agitated and Sara decided not to interrupt whatever she and Grissom had to discuss. Grissom had caught sight of Sara though and called her in. The brunette walked into the room, frowning.

"Close the door, please," Grissom asked her.

Sara did so, feeling apprehension building up, wondering what the matter was that Grissom wanted to talk with her about in Catherine's presence. Sara could not think of anything that she might have messed up, but tensed somewhat, as she was in fact still on probation after she had been reprimanded about going to a scene alone and without a warrant more than two months ago. Grissom was unreadable but Catherine's expression told Sara that it was not about her having made another slip. The blonde woman looked anxious, agitated, as Sara had already noticed before.

"I haven't reached Greg yet. I'll head over to his place to check on him," Sara told them, wondering if that was what they wanted to talk about, hoping that Greg would not get into too much trouble, for whatever reason he had not shown up at work the last night.

Catherine's quick glance at Grissom told Sara that it was indeed about Greg. Only it was something more serious, otherwise Catherine would not be so agitated. Sara was gripped by fear, afraid of what was the matter with Greg, afraid of what might have happened to him that Grissom and Catherine now tried to tell her.

Grissom picked up a piece of paper that had been lying on his desk, glancing briefly at Catherine.

"We have bad news," the blonde woman started carefully, and Sara felt cold. Grissom handed her the piece of paper he had been holding.

"Read that," he said and Sara glanced down on it, realizing that it was a letter. She looked at the signature and saw that it was from Greg, making her wonder what he had written. She scanned the letter, thinking what she was reading was a joke at first before the realization crashed onto her that it was real, that this was the reason Greg had not been at work, that she had not been able to call him.

"We got it with the mail some minutes ago," Grissom explained, while Sara, still shocked, looked at the paper. Greg had not written much. He had explained that he had been held at gunpoint, had been forced into a car and that they had driven a good distance away from Vegas, but did not know where they were heading. Strangely enough he had added that he was fine and that they should not worry. Sara shook her head slightly. Of course they would worry, why wouldn't they?

Sara looked up to Grissom, still clinging on the faint hope that this was a bad joke, that none of this was real.

"How do you know it's not a bad joke?" she asked, looking down at the paper again and realizing that it looked like Greg's writing.

Grissom glanced at Catherine again. "Unless Greg is playing a very bad joke…," he started, and handed Sara then a photo. "This was attached to the letter."

Sara glanced at the picture. It showed Greg with a surprised expression. Whoever had shot the photo was holding a gun in front of the camera, pointed at Greg. Sara observed Greg further, noticing that he appeared to be alright so far, that he did not seem to have any injuries, at least no visible ones. They did not know how he was now though, assuming that he had been taken yesterday.

"What are we going to do?" Sara asked weakly.

Grissom frowned at her. "The envelope is already in the lab. They should be able to determine soon where the letter was postmarked."

Sara nodded.

"I called PD five minutes ago and set up a search for Greg's car," Grissom continued.

"He wrote he was forced into a car. How do we know he means his own?" Sara interjected, looking at the two other people in the room.

"We don't," Catherine admitted. "If it's not his own, it could still be helpful to find it, seeing that we have no other leads as of yet… apart from the letter that is."

Sara rubbed her forehead. It still felt unreal. She thought of Greg who had maybe already been held captive for a whole day now. And who knew what else the kidnapper had done to him? Who knew if Greg was even still alive?

Grissom and Catherine had noticed that Sara had fallen into her own thoughts, so Catherine called her name gently. Sara looked up again.

"I won't even tell you to go home, knowing that you won't anyway," Grissom said.

"Do the others know?" Sara asked suddenly.

Catherine shook her head. "Only we three here know it in the lab. We'll have to tell them though and Ecklie has to know as well of course," she added. She stood up from her chair.

"I'll go and tell him. Nick and Warrick are at home. Waking them up won't help Greg, there isn't much we can do now," she explained with a distinct look at Sara, leaving the room then.

* * *

Greg woke up to the sound of a trunk door being slammed down. He opened his eyes and was blinded by the light of the rising sun, so he squeezed his eyes shut quickly. Wanting to stretch, he struggled for a second to get his hand free, until he remembered that it was still cuffed to the door of the car, and remembered where he was.

He was still sitting in the car of that crazy woman, having still no idea what she wanted with him. Despite that he had slept for several hours, he felt exhausted, probably coming from the strain the whole situation was having on him.

The woman was coming around to his side of the car now, wearing apparently her best good-morning smile. She unlocked the door and opened it carefully, Greg setting himself around, his feet out of the car.

"Good morning," he was greeted. Greg chose not to answer, wondering how she could actually think he was having a good morning.

"So what do we want to do today?" she asked him, still smiling.

"Can you just let me go?" Greg asked tiredly, betting inwardly that this was out of question.

"Why?" he received the same puzzled answer he had already gotten on the day before.

"I don't like it here."

The woman shook her head, again smiling, but did not reply anything to Greg's simple statement directly. After a minute, she turned to him again though, starting to uncuff him.

"You keep repeating that," she stated. "The let-you-go thing," she clarified. Greg stretched his now free arms.

"It's true," he said. "Just let me go. I won't tell anybody about you and everything will be alright," he tried to sound calmly, tried to convince her. It was when the woman shook her head that Greg made a decision he had thought a lot about earlier. His capturer had not done anything to him, had been somewhat nice actually. She had threatened him, but had not really harmed him. Still he could not stay like this forever and he did not know what would come later on. He had to risk it and had to hope that she would keep her earlier behavior and would not hurt him.

When the woman shook her head to decline Greg's request, he pushed her out of his way and headed for the trees that started not far away from where the car was parked, running as fast as he could.

Greg had not even reached the comparatively safety of the wood, when he heard a shot behind him. The bullet hit the ground only few feet away from him, and Greg stopped, having no choice, as he did not know how far the woman would actually go. She called after him and he turned around defeated. At least one thing Greg could hope for now: that somebody had heard the shot and would draw the right conclusion from it. This hope was faint though considering how far they were off the main road.

Once he was back next to the car, the woman walked him around towards the trunk and Greg shook his head in silent protest.

"That's not necessary," he said. "You don't want to do that."

The woman had appeared a little ill-tempered during the last minutes, but smiled now again.

"That's true. I wouldn't have a companion then. I just wanted to show you your alternatives." Back to her obviously sunny mood she made him sit in the passenger's seat again. "Just to clarify: I could get me a new companion any day, so no running away anymore," she added finally and Greg nodded reluctantly. After some minutes of activity she seated herself into the driver's seat again, starting the engine.

"I don't know why you're not enjoying this journey. I mean, in your job you see what bad things people can do," she began then and Greg nodded, leaning against the window of the door again.

"People are shot, stabbed, eaten… you should be happy that I'm so nice…" the woman rambled on and Greg hoped that his letter had already arrived at the lab and would help his colleagues to find him, or that somebody else would take notice of him and get him out of this situation.

* * *

Sara closed her eyes. She was lying on the couch in the break room, trying to get some sleep, if that was even possible considering the situation.

She wondered if she would be able to sleep at all, knowing in what danger Greg was, not knowing what was happening to him, not knowing if he was even still alive. There was not anything she could do right now apart from waiting for results. Usually she would be at home, sleeping. There was not anything for her in the lab to do now. She would have gladly delved into work, refusing to go home anyway, but had then accepted the reasoning that she needed the sleep if she wanted to help Greg later on.

She knew that everything could be over very quickly, in the good case, when Greg got free quickly, in the bad when somebody found his body, both cases telling them that the kidnapping had not lasted long, that the kidnapper had already gotten what he – or she – wanted, or had realized that he would not get it. Or they could brace themselves for a long ordeal, considering that Greg had been taken so far away from Las Vegas already, the kidnapper even taking the time to send a letter, a letter that did not even contain any demands.

Sara hoped that it would be over quickly. She hoped that she would wake up and find it had only been one awful nightmare. Fearing that it was not, she prayed they would get Greg back quickly, safe and sound.

**TBC**


	8. Who she is

**A/N: Yay for Linux! (I hope it let's me update here lol) **

**I'm glad people are still enjoying this story... other than that ... thanks to Emmithar for betareading (as always :P).**

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**Chapter 8 – Who she is**

Greg had fallen into a light slumber, involuntarily though. The monotony of the drive had gotten to him and the heat that was in the car did not help either. The woman had not said anything in a while and Greg's normal feature to fill silence with talking had been lost somewhere on the way from Vegas. He wondered if his captor ever needed a break, as they had driven on for hours and hours now. The only refreshment she had taken was water and she had given Greg a bottle of it as well. He was convinced that he had sweated that out again in the meantime though.

All of a sudden the woman started talking again.

"Who's the brunette you came to your lab with yesterday morning?" she wanted to know, and Greg had to lift himself out of the sleepy state he had fallen into to answer her.

"We came from a scene," he replied.

"I didn't ask where you came from," the woman said scolding. Greg sighed. Neither did he want to tell her anything about Sara, not knowing to what lunacy she would be able to, nor did he want to think about Sara now.

"She's a co-worker," he said.

"What's her name?"

Greg leaned back. "Sandra," he lied, hoping the questions would stop. Although he had to admit that there was not really a point. He could hope that she would stop asking him these questions, could hope this drive would finally stop; it did all not matter, if she did not let him go. Greg was tired of it.

"You're lying," the woman scolded him again and Greg rolled his eyes, staring straight ahead then, wondering irritably how much she actually knew about him and his colleagues and why she was asking him then at all. He did not reply anything and so it was she who continued.

"I heard you calling her Sara."

"You misunderstood it," Greg interjected, wondering about himself why he was still making the effort to argue with her. His capturer even laughed now.

"So what's between you and her?" she asked chuckling.

"Nothing," Greg answered tiredly, not even knowing himself now if that was a lie.

"Who lies once…," the woman intoned. Greg had always seen himself as being a patient person but now he really started to wonder if his captor's plan was to test how long it took her to drive him insane.

"Are you a couple?" the woman asked finally, the curiosity lying in her voice.

"No, we aren't," Greg replied. This was now definitely true. He leaned his head on his right arm against the window again. Falling asleep or pretending to fall asleep would maybe be a good idea. He closed his eyes, somewhat enjoying the short silence. That was a funny thought though. He had hardly ever enjoyed silence, had always tried to keep up a conversation or listen to the radio at least. That had changed now and he really pitied it when the woman started talking again.

"I don't believe you," she stated, sounding rather dissatisfiedly now. "Are you together?" she repeated her question.

"No, we aren't."

It was Greg's luck that they had not been driving too fast, as the woman was hitting the brakes now and as she had never cared to put the seating belt over Greg and he had not been able to do so himself, he was now thrown forward to the dashboard. It was only the fact that he was still secured to the door that was holding him somewhat back, the cuff cutting into his arm painfully though, Greg himself absorbing the impact with his other arm.

The car had come to a halt and Greg was still collecting himself, trying to determine if he had been injured by the sudden break. The woman was lamenting his lying, but Greg did hardly listen to it. After some moments she calmed down again, while Greg had sat back onto the seat. He leaned back, closing his eyes, several parts of his body throbbing painfully now. At least he had survived it. If they had gone a bit faster, things could have been much worse. Greg tried to console himself this way.

The car had started moving again, and they drove in silence for awhile, something Greg was thankful for. He was once again trying to drift off to sleep, which seemed the only thing to do now that would keep him sane. The woman on the other hand had obviously started to worry now.

"Are you alright?" she asked, sounding even concerned. "It was stupid from me to brake so abruptly," she added. Greg agreed very much inwardly, but chose not to tell her that.

"I'm okay," he replied, once again wondering if that was true, before he realized that he was stupid as well. He had once again missed a chance of getting possibly out of this situation. Just like when she had asked him if he needed any medication. If he had told her now that he was hurt badly, she might have taken him to a doctor, which would have saved him. Greg wondered if he had lost all his intelligence. On the other hand it was possible after all that his captor would not make the effort or take the risk to take him to a doctor but would get rid of him if he was making too much trouble because he was injured badly. He could not exclude that, so it was maybe better that he had told the truth.

The woman seemed satisfied and was soon watching him again with a smile.

"When was your first date? I mean you and Sara," she asked then unexpectedly.

"About three months ago." This one was even true.

"See, I knew you'd lied," was the almost cheerful answer Greg received. "And how was it?"

"It was nice. Very nice." Greg had given in now. He would just tell her what she wanted to know. At least it enabled him to think of some more pleasant things.

"That's good. I like that."

Greg had avoided looking at her so far, but now he turned towards her.

"You should let me go then. You have to think about how much Sara will worry about me and all," Greg tried to reason with her, if she wanted it this way. "You wouldn't want her to be sad, if something happens to me, would you?"

His capturer was silent.

"Yeah, you're right," she said finally and Greg dared almost not to hope. "That'd be awful for Sara," she added. She hit the breaks again, not as abruptly as earlier though so that Greg at least managed to stay in his seat.

"Sorry, I will have to remember to put the belt on later," the woman apologized, and the disappointment was washing over Greg again, as he presumed that it meant that she did not plan to let him free.

She got out of the car quickly, like she had done many times before, and opened the back door again, only to pick up the notepad she had put there the previous day after Greg had finished his letter to the lab. Greg guessed another one would follow now, probably to Sara this time. Once the woman was seated in the driver's seat again she handed Greg the pad and a pen.

"Write to your Sara," she said. Greg sighed inwardly. He could not write to Sara like that. They weren't a couple, never had been. Yes, they had made progress recently but were still far away from where they had been three months ago, before their relationship had been damaged so severely. He could not write to Sara like that, it would be like an insult to her. She would be worrying, of course she would; he couldn't write her a letter like that. Nevertheless he scribbled some lines, handing the pad over to the woman, when he was finished.

"Sara," she read aloud, "I'm still alright here. Don't worry. I hope to see you soon, Greg." The woman frowned. "That's all?"

Greg nodded.

"I don't like that." She ripped of the sheet of paper Greg had been writing on and crumbled it. "Write something properly." She pushed the pad back towards him.

"I can't. I'm in a stressing situation here," Greg pointed out. Once again the brakes were hit and some second later Greg was just seating himself back up, groaning, when the driver of the car showed that she had gotten rather angry. She got the gun she had laid into the compartment of the door out again, once again pointing it at him. Greg knew by now that she was mostly threatening without a real intention to hurt him, or maybe he was just hoping so much, but however things were, he did not really have a choice, when she asked again, "You can write this like I want, can't you?"

--

Sara rolled to her other side restlessly. Unsurprisingly she had not been able to fall asleep, although she knew that she would hardly be helpful if she was overtired later. She knew that somebody was going through Greg's apartment now, that the search for his car was on and that the lab was processing the letter they had received. She could not do anything but wait.

Sara closed her eyes again, trying once again to nod off, knowing that it would probably be in vain. The sounds of somebody entering the break room let her sit up immediately.

"Hey, Nick, you're here?" she asked surprised.

"Yeah, Grissom called me," Nick replied with a grave expression. After a moment of silence he added, "They found prints on the letter, both from Greg and an unknown person."

Sara stood up from the couch where she had still been sitting on.

"Anything else?" she asked. "Do they know where it came from? We weren't able to read the post mark earlier."

Nick nodded. "The letter was posted in a small town near Richfield, Utah."

"So Greg could be there?" Sara clarified.

"Yeah."

**TBC**


	9. Who is to say

_A/N: Kegel is back from vacation. On hearing this, Greg tries to sneak out of the room secretly in order to run, but fails… _

_I have currently various stories, posted and unposted, going on, so that updating on each of them goes obviously a little slower, although interest in a certain one might encourage me to update that one first ;-) _

_School isn't going to start again before October (I have already taken over the habit to say 'school', we'd never call university 'school' usually :S), so I have still enough time to finish some of the stories up before my free time will probably drastically diminish. :P_

_Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!_

_-- _

**Chapter 9 – Who is to say**

Grissom's office had become their meeting place. It wasn't an official meeting to discuss the case, since they did not really have one. Greg's disappearance was not a case for them, or not really anymore. There wasn't a scene; Greg's car had not been found either, so they did not have had something to process. And with the outcome that the letter they had received from Greg had been sent off in Utah, the investigation had completely gone over to cooperation between the local police department in Utah, the FBI and the LVPD. Since they still had the samples from the letter with the unknown DNA, and since they still had naturally the responsibility for one of their investigators, Grissom had achieved that a contact person from them would be involved in the investigation.

Now all CSIs of the graveyard shift - minus Greg of course - were assembled in Grissom's office. Nobody really knew if Grissom was happy with that arrangement that they were occupying his room now, but he had not complained so far. He had told them how the situation was. They had expected it this way, had known that they would not be directly involved, but that did not make anybody like it any more.

"There isn't much else to do for you than to cover your cases," Grissom explained. He looked around in the room, seeing the frustration in everybody's expressions. Nick and Warrick were not happy with this arrangement, he could see that. The least happy with all of this was clearly Sara though. She had been standing by the door, arms crossed in front of her chest, for the major part of the time, wearing a deep frown at least since Grissom had told them that they did not know very much news, and had then started to explain the situation. Catherine seemed equally frustrated, only that she, unlike Sara, voiced her dissatisfaction.

"Gil, you can't be serious."

Grissom only looked at her silently, showing that he meant it seriously indeed. Catherine wanted to say more but now Grissom beat her to it.

"I'd welcome it though if you went to Utah to work together there with the local authorities. I want to have a contact person over there."

Catherine's face expressed satisfaction. "Sure I'll go there."

Sara made a step forward now, throwing a glance at Catherine. Grissom was afraid she would criticize him for choosing Catherine for the task, but Sara was going another way.

"I want to be involved as well," she demanded. Grissom could hear the underlying anger.

"Sara-"

"I was, I am Greg's mentor. I have a responsibility," she pointed out. Grissom glanced at Catherine, searching for support. Catherine intervened in their discussion, but not like Grissom had wanted it.

"She's right, Gil," she said simply.

"Okay," Grissom replied defeated. "Then you both will go."

Sara breathed a sigh a relief, while Catherine glanced at her. Sara looked back and Catherine read in her expression almost something as a silent thank you. Sara looked away quickly though, before Grissom drew the attention back at him.

"That's it," he said. Looking at Warrick and Nick he added, "Don't be late for shift tonight. We're only three, so there'll be plenty to do." With the last sentence he was glancing at Sara, taking it apparently badly that she had insisted on going as well.

Sara chose to ignore it though and walked out of the office as first, Catherine following behind her.

"Sara," she called her and the brunette turned around. "Please go and get some things for a possible stay overnight. We'll leave in two hours."

Sara nodded. "Okay." Then she made her way to her car quickly, only stopping by the locker room briefly, knowing that she had to hurry.

The first thing she did when she arrived at home was grab her cat and carry her out of the flat. She walked over to the next apartment where she knew an old woman lived who had apparently much free time. She knocked at the door, while her cat was purring in her arms. The door was opened and Sara set on a smile.

"Good afternoon. I have to go out of town for an emergency-," she started.

"And you want me to look after your cat, don't you?" the other woman took the words out of Sara's mouth and Sara nodded. "Of course I'll do that. Gladly," the woman continued.

"I should be back in one or two days," Sara tried to ensure her.

"It doesn't matter. Take as long as is necessary. I hope everything will be alright."

"Yeah, I hope so as well." Sara smiled weakly.

Sara did not spend much time in her apartment but got only some things that were necessary for one or two stays overnight. They did not expect to stay long in Utah. No matter if the search there would be successful or not, they would be back in Las Vegas quickly.

Sara did not have to wait long for Catherine at their working place. Soon they were both sitting in a SUV of the lab, Catherine driving.

"We'll be there in four to five hours, depending on traffic," she told Sara, when she was starting the engine.

"Yeah."

"When we're there," Catherine added after some minutes," I want you to leave the talking to me."

"Okay." Sara looked ahead, apparently watching the traffic. She did not care. She was not even keen to do the talking with the people who would be around there. Catherine could do that as well, probably better. Sara wanted to be around; she felt that she owed it to Greg; and she wanted to know directly what had happened to him, what was still happening to him.

"You know that you're only here because you insisted with Gil that you are," Catherine continued, as if to explain Sara her earlier request.

"It's alright," Sara replied simply.

"Good."

They drove mostly in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Sara wondered more and more what they were actually expecting to find at their destination. The only thing that pointed there was a letter that could have been posted to confuse them. Greg could have been there the other day, only to be gone somewhere else hundreds of miles away in the meantime. It was not exactly realistic to find Greg there, especially not alive. Sara looked out of the window on the passenger's side, unwilling that Catherine saw the tears that had come up into her eyes and it took some minutes until she had composed herself.

After what seemed like an endless drive to Sara they reached their destination. They got out of the car, looking at what appeared to be already the major part of the tiny town they were in. Sara put on her sunglasses; she had the intention to leave them on as far as she could, not only because of the sun that way nearing its sundown, but especially because the shades were hiding her emotions well. As long as she would not let the tears fall freely, nobody would really see what she was feeling. And Sara thought that this was what might get necessary, since she did not know what she would get to see, or what she would learn at this place.

Some minutes later they had met one of the responsible persons for the search and Catherine was talking to her while Sara remained listening silently.

"So the letter your lab received was sent from this town. It wasn't a ransom note, was it?"

Catherine shook her head. "No, it was a personal letter from Greg Sanders, the victim."

Sara did not like that Greg was called this way, but realized that they had to keep up or at least try to built up something like professional distance to the case, although Sara knew – as well as Catherine – that this would be nearly impossibly for her, which was another reason why Catherine had insisted that Sara did not interfere in her actions at the location, apart from that it was her who was in charge.

The police officer nodded gravely on Catherine's reply. "We have a search on around here, but without a description of the kidnapper or the car they are using our search is very vague."

Both Catherine and Sara nodded. Greg's car had still not been found, so for all they could tell it could be his one the kidnapper was using, but it was far from certain.

"We have several search teams around here," the woman continued.

"Do they expect to find something that could bring us on the kidnapper's track?" Sara wanted to know. It was one of the first times that she was participating in the conversation. She wondered because she could not really imagine that there was something to be found that would help them. The area was huge and it was doubtful that the kidnapper had left anything behind that could bring them on their track. She would have rather seen it that more emphasis had been put on finding the car.

The police officer looked at Sara gravely, as if trying to estimate her.

"I guess you're long enough on the job," she stated finally, "to know that they are searching for a body."

This fact hit Sara hard although she had known it in the back of her head. The letter they had received had been posted more than twenty-four hours ago. It had not contained a ransom note or any other clue to what the kidnapper wanted. And they had not heard from Greg since then, so they could not even know if he was still alive. The longer all this went on, the lower was the chance for that. The police did go for the nearest solution here, even though it was a gruesome one. They were searching for Greg's body; a search would end all their efforts to find him alive, only the search for the kidnapper would continue.

Sara was indeed long enough in her job to know it; she had been involved in enough cases with similar situations before. Not that this made it any easier now.

"We're doing a body retrieval here," the police officer emphasized.

**TBC**


	10. When she says

_A/N: I start this Author's notes with a huge thanks to Emmithar who betaed this chapter as well, although it was late for her. Also thanks to all who read and reviewed and to Jenny for her encouragement when I once again think my chapters are cold and lifeless._

_I guess it was a rhetorical question, but yes, I know that I'm evil. However, I'm not quite finished with Greg yet. :D_

_-- _

**Chapter 10 – When she says**

Soon the search was stopped for the day, as the night had fallen in, and the risk to miss anything crucial in the darkness seemed greater than a possible advantage that could be gained with a quicker find.

Sara and Catherine were staying at a hotel in a town about fifteen miles away from the village that was the center of their search. Both CSIs had not really done anything so far; there was nothing for them to do. The only purpose their presence had served so far was for informational reasons. Of course that was for what Grissom had intended them to be there.

The two women had shared a short conversation in Catherine's room after they had gotten a small dinner and Sara was just about to retreat to her room for the night, when Catherine held her back by speaking again.

"We both hope that they don't find anything out in the forest, don't we?" she stated.

"Of course," Sara replied, although it was almost certain that Catherine had only wanted to ensure Sara that she shared her sentiments there. "I mean, I hope they find something that will lead us to Greg, but…"

Catherine nodded, clearly affected. While they had been out during the day Sara had not been able to see that so clearly, as opposed to now.

"I think that Greg is still alive," Catherine said now, voicing what Sara had been telling herself not to consider as a given.

"As long as we don't have another lead," Catherine added, "this place out here is the only thing we have."

--

Jim Brass had received the call only two minutes ago. Sofia Curtis had turned their car into the direction they had been given immediately, as it had been only some streets away.

Now they were standing next to the car, the police officer who had made the call still waiting there. The description fit, they had already seen that when they had approached the car from their own parked vehicle. The number on the license plate told them that it was exactly the car they were searching for. Brass did not hesitate and opened the door on the driver's side. He found lying in there what he had expected: a wallet that contained Greg Sanders' driver's license, and a cell phone that would probably turn out to be his as well. Greg's car was still in Las Vegas, or maybe it was again here.

Brass stood up from his brief search inside the car and told Sofia about his find. She had remained standing behind the car, looking at the trunk.

"We have to open it," Brass stated. Sofia's glance told him that she was thinking of what he was fearing as well. Greg Sanders was missing for almost two days and they were expecting the worst now that his car was found.

"Let's do it," Brass suggested. They had to get it over with.

"I can't," Sofia replied weakly and Brass remembered that she had worked together with Greg for some time when she had still worked as a CSI.

"I'll do it," he said. Sofia stepped some paces back and Brass went to open the trunk. He had seen a lot during his career at the police department and at the crime lab, but losing one of their own was always hard again, so Brass braced himself briefly before he swung the door of the trunk open. He could hear Sofia behind him breathe a sign of relief. The trunk was empty, save for Greg's kit, some other work utensils, and the spare tire.

"I'll give the lab a call. Maybe they'll get some more out of this car," Brass said, turning around to his colleague. "And let's hope that Greg's still hanging in there."

--

It was early in the morning when Sara thought she heard a cell-phone ringing after she had already rolled around in her bed restlessly for some hours. It definitely was not her own phone that she had laid in her reach on the bedside table, the ringing was too distant and quiet for that. A moment later the ringing stopped and Sara could hear Catherine's muffled voice in the next room without that she was able to understand what she was saying.

It had to be something important, something urgent that they called her this early in the morning; it was not even six, the sun had only brought the first light of the day. Had the search in the forests already been resumed? Had they found something, found Greg? It was probably too early for that; Sara doubted that the search would be continued before it was light enough. Sara had not heard Catherine talking for a minute now and assumed that she had finished the call; it had probably not been about their search. But what if some random person had made a gruesome found in the woods? Someone could have taken a walk in the morning and…

Sara's distressing thoughts were interrupted when she heard brief knocking on the door to her room. Assuming that it was Catherine, Sara called her in and the door opened, revealing indeed her co-worker to her. Catherine's expression was serious and Sara braced herself for the confirmation that her suspicion had been right.

"Did they…?" she started, unable to finish her sentence.

"They found Greg's car," Catherine told her, and while it was somewhat of a relief, the realization came with it that finding Greg's car out here in the forest was not good, was not good at all.

"In Las Vegas," Catherine added now and Sara was surprised.

"In Vegas?"

The blonde woman nodded. "They've found his kit, cell phone and wallet inside," she continued. "It tells us that he's probably been abducted in another car. They're processing his car for anything that could tell us who did that, assuming that they've been in Greg's car which we don't know for sure."

Sara nodded, frowning. It was now that they had finally a possibly lead in Las Vegas, finally something to work with, and she was not there, but was here, sitting in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, unable to do anything.

"They'll still pick up the search here again," Catherine stated.

"Are we going to stay here or go back to Vegas?" Sara wanted to know. She would have given anything to be in Las Vegas now, being able to work on their new lead there. But she had wanted to be here as well and it was still possible that they found something.

"We're going to stay until tonight."

The day did not bring any success for the search teams, not that the find Sara and Catherine were dreading would have been seen as a success. No trace of Greg or his kidnapper was found, or at least non that could be clearly attributed to either of them. There were naturally many items found in the woods, mainly garbage that could have been lying out there for years, but nothing that could be identified as having belonged to Greg.

Frustration had settled both with Catherine and Sara when they made their car ready for the drive back. The anxiety of finding a body was lifted from them for now, even though the search would be continued without them for some days with less people. But nothing had led them any further to Greg, and that they did not have a sign of life from him for more than two days now, did not give them new hope.

The drive was silent, save for the news that was sounding out of the radio. Sara stared out into the darkness of the night. If I had not been for the news station that had just announced the time, Sara would have thought that they had already driven for half the night. She wondered how long and far Greg had been driven away. He had been taken in the morning as far as they knew and had been hundreds of miles away from Las Vegas already in the afternoon, which the letter had told them. They could not know how far away he was maybe now, almost three days after his disappearance.

In his letter he had written that he was alright. Was that true at all? Had he not just written that to not worry them, or maybe because the abductor had wanted it this way? They could not know how he was treated. Actually they knew hardly anything and without Greg's letter it would have been nothing.

Catherine was lost in her own thoughts, but watched Sara out of the corner of her eye from time to time. Her expression showed that her mind was somewhere else. It was not hard to guess where.

"What will we do if we don't find a new lead?" Sara asked all of a sudden.

"There's still the search in Utah, and we'll see what they'll get out of Greg's car," Catherine replied evasively.

"And if that all leads to nothing?" Sara returned quietly. Catherine was silent, although she knew the answer. It was not really the lab's case anymore, there would be nothing for them to do, nothing to investigate. They would have to leave any further investigation to other authorities and would have to turn their attention to their own cases again, something that had been somewhat neglected in the last two days with two investigators gone to follow the search in Utah.

"We'll have to see," Catherine could give Sara only a rather nothing-saying answer again. Sara was silent for a long time before she spoke again, even more quietly than before.

"Somehow I have the feeling that Greg and I won't see each other again."

Catherine could not believe it. "Sara Sidle, what are you talking about? Of course you will." Catherine was actually not so sure of that, but she just did not feel like giving up on Greg right now, and she could not let it happen that Sara did.

"It's a feeling," Sara repeated.

"Since when do you have 'feelings'?" Realizing how odd that sounded, Catherine added quickly, "I mean, be rational, use your head. This isn't over. Don't give up just now."

Sara did not answer right back, but it took some moments before she spoke again. "We could've been more."

Catherine had only a slight hunch what Sara was meaning, so she decided to let her talk. She did not expect Sara's next statement though.

"I have a confession to make."

**TBC**


	11. When it ends

_Thanks for all the response and thanks to Emmithar for the beta!_

_------------------------------------------ _

**Chapter 11: When it ends**

After Sara's announcement Catherine had pulled over the car, knowing that the situation needed her unshared attention. Sara had not said anything further so far and Catherine watched her silently, waiting for her to start with whatever she wanted to tell her.

Sara was biting on her lip now, pondering what to say.

"I'd like to keep this off-record," she started finally, her eyes fixed on the glove compartment. "I mean, I am not telling you this as my supervisor, but as a … friend."

"Okay," Catherine replied carefully, wondering what in the world Sara was going to tell her. Sara glanced at her briefly, before she leaned back and stared out into the darkness.

"You remember the day when I was stabbed?" she asked quietly.

"Of course," Catherine answer was soft; she still did not know what brought Sara on that incident now, apart from the possible analogy of fatal danger she had been in and Greg was in now.

"It happened because I went to that place without back-up."

Catherine was silent. She knew that already and Sara knew that she did, so she was waiting for Sara to continue on to what she actually wanted to tell her.

"Greg was there with me that day. We'd driven to that apartment together. When he realized that I wanted to go in there without back-up, he tried to hold me from it."

Catherine nodded earnestly. Back then Greg had only accounted what Sara had done without telling about his own role in there. But to try to hold back Sara from the stupidity she was about to do was what Catherine expected Greg to do, even though it had obviously not worked.

"I didn't listen to him," Sara continued now. Catherine nodded again silently. So much she could have guessed out of the situation. But what did Sara try to tell her with that? That Greg had tried to hold her from danger, but she did not listen, and now she was not able to do anything for him to keep him from danger?

"Greg always cares for you," Catherine said. "He'd be glad to know that you're caring so much for him, too. We all care for him," she told her, assuming the brunette was finished.

"I was angry," Sara went on though. "That was just when we got that B&E call."

A bad suspicion dawned on Catherine now.

"I told Greg to go, but he did not want to leave me alone to enter that apartment."

Catherine sensed that the worst part would follow, and it was now that Sara finally looked at her again.

"I called Grissom and told him that Greg refused to answer the B&E call," the brunette admitted steadfastly.

It confirmed the suspicion that had risen in Catherine while Sara had been talking. Grissom and she had thought that Sara's report on Greg and her being stabbed in that apartment were two unrelated events. As it turned out they were not. And even worse, Sara had lied. Okay, technically she had not even lied, since it had been true that Greg had refused to answer that breaking-and-entering call. But Sara had concealed the circumstances that changed everything of course.

Greg had refused to go because he wanted to hinder Sara from bringing herself into trouble, or even danger. Not because of some other reason. What had Grissom suspected? That Greg had thought the breaking-and-entering not interesting enough? Catherine almost snorted at that idea now. Sara had hidden the true circumstances and had made it sound like Greg had simply not followed the orders for whatever reason. Greg must have felt it as some kind of betrayal. He and Sara had been friends after all. And that was what had kept Greg from revealing the truth to Grissom or Catherine, as Sara had probably very well known, which made everything even worse.

Sara had been silent for some minutes now and so had Catherine who had not said anything after Sara's last statement. Catherine could not see Sara's face. She was keeping her head down, her hair falling into her face, hiding it from Catherine. The blonde could understand now why Sara had wanted to keep this an off-record conversation. If she had learned it in her position as supervisor, they would probably have one CSI less now, although Catherine doubted herself if she would have fired Sara right now, in a situation like this, when they were all fearing for Greg's life. And this was what was hanging much more over her co-worker now. It was not the job-thing. It was what she had done to Greg back then, which she could not forgive herself now.

Catherine realized that one of them would have to say something again, but found herself unable to come up with something. She was disappointed, she could not deny that. She felt sympathy with the brunette since she could imagine how Sara was reproaching herself now, but at the same time she felt angry about what Sara had done.

Sara lifted her head now, and Catherine saw that she was crying.

"I was angry then," she spoke again, in a teary voice now. "But later I had the opportunity to make it right and I didn't do so. When I was in Grissom's office, you even asked me if I have anything to say to the report I made on Greg. And I said no."

Catherine remembered that day of course. Greg had come next to the talk with her and Grissom and they had reprimanded him. Unfairly as Catherine knew now. But Greg had not said anything, probably knowing that it would have been Sara's last day at the crime lab if he had told them the truth.

"Greg, he was so disappointed," Sara's voice was not as teary as earlier anymore, but only sad. "I'll never forget his hurt expression."

"Greg's forgiven you by now. I am sure of that," Catherine told her. Greg certainly had, he was not the type to hold grudges, especially not against Sara for who he always had had a soft spot. Catherine knew that she herself would not forgive anything like that quickly, and in a way she would have wanted that Greg did not let Sara get away with it easily.

"Our relationship was very tense in the last months," Sara explained. "But in the last few days, before all of this happened, we'd made a step forward. More than one." She sighed and looked out of the window on the passenger's side again.

Sara's initial statement how she and Greg could have been more showed Catherine that Sara had not told her quite everything. But what she could take out of this statement and Sara's narration, made her understand how much harder the situation had to be for the brunette.

Sara was now obviously finished and Catherine wondered if she should comment further on her admission. She would have liked to rebuke her on it, but could not bring herself to it. Their main concern was still Greg, with everything else they would have to deal later, if at all, since Catherine doubted that she would ever bring up the topic again if Greg did not return home safe and sound.

Catherine started the engine again and brought their car back onto the street to make sure that at least they returned home after they had spent two days chasing after something they did not even know if it had been there.

-----------------------------

It had been in the early morning when Sara and Catherine had finally arrived back at the lab. They had spent the time they had been waiting for Grissom to return from a scene by emptying the vending machines and shoving papers back and forth between them. When Grissom was finally back they had reported to him about the failure. What he had told them about their findings in Greg's car had surprised them both. Hairs that had been found on the backseat were a match to the DNA that had been retrieved from Greg's letter, and it was female. Still this result did not really help them, as the DNA was not in any database so that it turned out to nothing if they did not have a suspect they could compare it to.

Now Sara was lying on the hard bench in the locker room, trying to get some sleep, the emphasis on trying since it was not exactly comfortable to lie there, but she did not have a choice since Catherine had taken possession of the couch in the break room, refusing to go home as well. It did not really matter though. Sara doubted that she would have slept. She had always slept little and often badly. But now sleep did not want to come for her at all, but it helped to be at least able to close her eyes.

About 8 AM the techs and investigators of dayshift streamed in and Sara got up and went to the break room in order for them to have space to change, and in order to avoid their sympathy and questions, since of course every single person in the lab knew by now what had happened.

It was still in the morning, when the dayshift receptionist called for Sara, telling her to come to the reception where she received a letter addressed to her surprised. There was no return address, but when Sara read the address written in Greg's handwriting, she started trembling in anticipation.

She could hardly resist ripping the envelope open just as it was, but made finally her way to a quiet unoccupied room of the lab where she put on gloves and opened the envelope carefully. It did not contain anything else than a handwritten letter. Again Sara recognized Greg's script. It was all very similar to the letter Grissom and Catherine had showed her two days ago, only that there was no photo with it. Sara started to read. It was some minutes later that Catherine entered the room in search for her and found Sara crying silently, the letter still in her hand.

------------------------------

Greg was standing now. It was somewhat of a relief after sitting almost permanently for days. In this time span even the most comfortable seat became a nightmare. What reduced the comfort of standing drastically was of course the woman that was once again standing next to him, unwilling to put the gun away. As she had told him several times, she still did not trust him well enough, even after all these days, that he would not try to run off, which was of course a completely justified assumption.

Greg could not say that he was feeling too bad. He was still scared and worn out, but he had eaten, had slept a bit and had gotten through the whole ordeal uninjured so far. He knew that things could have gone far worse, but the danger was not over, not at all.

They had been standing there near some lonely seashore for some time, watching the sun go up over the Atlantic.

"Isn't it practical that the sun goes up in the east and the Atlantic is in the east? It makes a nice picture," the woman commented now.

"Yeah, otherwise we would have to go all the way back to the west coast to see that," Greg replied dryly. She laughed even and Greg could not care less if she did or not. During the last day he had given it up to suppress any comments, realizing that she did not do anything to him, did not even threaten him, as long as he did not anger her. So he was at least at ease to say more what went through his head, although a lot of things still remained unsaid of course.

"It was a very nice journey," the woman said almost melancholy. "But everything good has to end sometime," she added, turning to Greg, smiling sadly now. She lifted her gun at Greg, cocking it this time.

Greg stepped back, rising his arms panicky. "No."

"You were a good companion," the kidnapper said. "Goodbye."

Greg stared at the horror in front of him almost until the last moment when he squeezed his eyes shut. Birds flew up panicking from the nearby trees when the deafening bang of the gun being shot off sounded through the air and everything ended.

---------------------------

The supervisor of the dayshift of the crime lab in Jacksonville was just unlocking his office at the beginning of his work day, another day of processing scenes, retrieving bodies and putting clues together lying in front of him, when one of his employees came running up to him.

They had all heard the news of a CSI, Greg Sanders, being kidnapped in Las Vegas, but they had never thought that this would have anything to do with them at the east coast. But it was now that his investigator turned to him and told him the news.

"We found Greg Sanders," he said quietly and clearly affected.

**TBC**


	12. When it happens

_A/N: Ehm, I'm glad people are… "enjoying" the story… yeah… I will go into hiding now… maybe I'll meet Em there… oh, yes, thanks to Emmithar for betareading!_

_---- _

**Chapter 12: When it happens**

It had taken Catherine some time until she had gotten out of Sara what kind of letter she was reading there. Once she knew it, she had made sure that the letter was processed in the lab, not before she had read it herself quickly. The content had confused her. She had made a copy and had then sent off the original letter to the lab.

Now she and Sara were sitting in Grissom's office while Grissom was reading the letter with a grave expression.

Finally he looked up, his gaze fixed on Sara.

"Can you explain this?" he wanted to know. Sara shook her head. Grissom glanced at Catherine now, searching for support. He had not asked the question yet that was going around in Catherine's mind. She had suspected it already earlier, after Sara's confession on their drive back from Utah, and now it seemed to be confirmed by the letter.

"Are you and Greg …?" she started therefore.

Sara shook her head again, accompanied by a quiet, "No, we are not."

"Sara, if you know anything that could help us finding Greg-," it was Grissom who was interrupted when Sara jumped up suddenly, after she had been sitting obviously deep in thought on a chair in front of his desk.

"You don't think I have anything to do with this!" she yelled.

"Of course we don't," Catherine tried to calm her down, but Sara picked up the letter from the desk and went on.

"I have no idea why he has written this. I don't know why. It's all lies, it's all not true, this has never happened!"

Before Catherine or Grissom had the chance to say anything, Sara was bolting out of the office. She rushed into the restroom, locking herself in a cubicle, knowing that it was the only place where she would be really alone. She was holding the copy of the letter Greg had sent still in her hand and started to re-read it now.

_Sara, _

_I'm writing this to tell you how much I've loved being together with you, ever since our first date three months ago. I've enjoyed all our time together, all our dates, if it was just walking along the strip and watching the tourists, or going swimming together at Lake Mead, or hanging out at home, when you had to endure my awful cooking._

_I know we had our problems at the beginning, not everything went smoothly all the time, but we went beyond that… you know I would forgive you for anything…_

It went on like that and Sara still could not believe what she was reading there. It was all made-up. And it sounded awkward, somehow unlike Greg. But something had made him write that, it was his handwriting without any doubt. The kidnapper had forced him to write it, that was the most likely explanation. Greg did not mention the kidnapping with a single word in the whole letter. Only at the end he had written that she should not worry.

'_Love, Greg' _was the last line and Sara wondered if that one was made-up as well.

----

It was not many hours later that Grissom arrived at the lab again after he had went home for some time to get some sleep. A lab tech was already coming up to him when he was walking towards his office.

"We know where the letter was posted," the tech announced, speaking about the second letter from Greg they had received, the one that was addressed to Sara. Grissom's look told the tech clearly that he should get to the point quickly.

"It came from Las Vegas," the lab tech continued and Grissom let out a surprised sound.

"New Mexico," clarified the other man. When Grissom did not reply immediately, the tech started to explain, "It's a town in New Mexico with the same name-"

"I knew so much," Grissom interrupted him impatiently, wondering what to do next. Catherine was at home, as well as Sara who had been convinced by Nick to head home. Grissom guessed that Catherine would want to leave for New Mexico directly, knowing that she was willing to follow the track anywhere if necessary. So was probably Sara, but Grissom would not let her go this time, that was out of question.

----

Sara had returned to the lab at the normal time for the beginning of her shift. She was still avoiding people and had retreated into a quiet room to go over case files. It was a distraction. She had learned on a short trip to the break room that Catherine would go to New Mexico where the letter that had been addressed to Sara had obviously been posted. A short excitement was rushing up in Sara that vanished quickly though when she realized that she certainly would not go this time and that the success of all of it was doubtful anyway. They were always several days behind, they could be chasing after letters being sent off in the whole country and still not find Greg.

Time went by very slowly this night and Sara went through many files without making real progress. In the morning she had the file about the case she and Greg had been working on some days before he had vanished. The case was still cold. All the evidence she had picked up in the demolition houses the bodies had been found in had lead to nothing, and there was the apprehension that a new victim would turn up before they could get any further.

Even the case they had been working on the day of Greg's disappearing had turned cold. The media still had not lost interest, the murder of the member of the city council was still a daily topic in the news but the crime lab could not offer any suspects.

Sara closed the last file sighing, realizing that she would need a new assignment from Grissom. The question was only if he would give her any, since her shift was well over. Sara made her way to his office when the situation of the previous day repeated and the receptionist called for her. Few minutes later Sara was again holding a letter in her hands, again addressed to her in Greg's handwriting.

----

When Grissom had returned from his scene, the sun had just gone up over Las Vegas. Catherine was already on her way to the other town with the same name, and a morning of paperwork was still lying in front of Grissom. It was day number five. Day number five that Greg was gone and he wondered how long they would be counting.

Some hours later Grissom was still sitting in his office, just ending a call, when Sara came marching into the room. She was carrying a letter and he wondered for a moment if she was still having the copy of the previous day with her until he saw that it was not a copy she was holding.

"Please give me a case," Sara was demanding directly, without explaining anything about the letter.

"Did you get another letter?" her boss returned. Sara threw the paper in her hand on his desk.

"Just give me a case," she repeated her plea.

"Sara, you'd better go home."

She was shaking her head. "I can't."

Reluctantly Grissom picked up the piece of paper on that he had just scribbled the directions of the scene he had just been called about.

"A db in the desert. It's probably a guy who got lost there, but we want to make sure that there was no foul play," he explained, handing her the paper.

"Thanks," Sara said earnestly, leaving Grissom alone. He checked the envelope Sara had laid onto the table. This time he could read the post stamp without that the lab needed to enhance it. Grissom picked up the phone again, pushing the speed dial button to Catherine's cell phone.

"Willows," he heard moments later.

"Catherine, it's Grissom."

"I'm almost there, Gil."

"I'm afraid you can either come back or go much farer, although you'd better think about taking a plane now. We got another letter."

"Where's it from?"

"Louisiana."

----

Sara looked down at the body. The coroner was just telling her about the cause of death, while she got an overview of the belongings the dead person had with him. With gloved hands she searched his trousers pockets and found a cell phone, but that was dead though.

So far everything seemed as if the man had indeed gotten lost in the desert. The question why he had not used his phone Sara could answer quickly by looking at her own one. There was no reception; her phone kept searching in vain for a net. Although there seemed to be no foul play on first and second glance, Sara wanted to make sure and spent nevertheless several hours in the desert.

It was already in the early afternoon when she returned back into the city. Soon after her phone had reception again, it started ringing and Sara felt the worry and apprehension that had been in the back of her mind all day increase.

It was not a call about Greg though, but Detective Vartann who told her that they had probably a new victim in the demolition houses case, one of the very cases Sara had been going over in the morning. Right after she had finished the call, her phone went off completely, having spent all its energy on trying to find a net in the desert for hours.

Sara had promised Vartann to be at the scene quickly, not caring that she was going to work a triple. It all did not matter; she could go on working like that for quite some time; what was driving her crazy was all the fear, combined with the confusion and emotions that came with Greg's letters.

The second one that had been addressed to her had been similar in the content like the previous one. Again Greg had talked about their relationship, as if they were a couple, had even said several times that he loved her. Sara did not know what Greg had told the kidnapper but that woman was either playing games with them or completely crazy, since Greg would naturally never write something like that on his own account.

Sara arrived at the address Vartann had given her and learned from a police officer who was waiting for her that the detective had left for the scene of another crime.

"What happened here?" Sara wanted to know, looking at the old house in front of her. The police officer pointed at the building behind his back.

"House has been standing empty for ages. It's up for demolition."

"Yeah, I know," Sara nodded.

"We got a witness who saw a guy entering the house, obviously carrying a body, and gave us a call."

"All cleared?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Sara entered the scene and found the body of a woman lying in a room that had probably been the kitchen when the house had still been inhabited what was apparently long ago. A short look at the body confirmed that the similarity to the earlier cases was there. The woman had been strangled, so much could even Sara tell although the coroner had not been there yet. Sighing she started to take some photos, wondering when this would end.

She was just taking a walk around the nearby rooms when she heard steps behind her. She assumed it was the coroner who had finally arrived and turned around.

She did not get the chance to say anything because the man who was coming up there was definitely not the coroner. The moment she realized that he was already all over her, pushing her at the wall behind her, choking her with his right hand, Sara being barely able to move. It was the guy who had disposed of the body. Obviously he did not have time to leave the house again because police had arrived quickly.

Now he was here and Sara was trying desperately to get away from him, to free herself from his grasp. She was struggling for breath and in these moments that seemed to be the last ones with ever increasing probability, Sara realized that she had been right after all. She and Greg would not see each other again, only that it was not Greg who would be gone, but her.

Sara was still kicking and suddenly she made a fortunate hit and was free for a moment. She ran towards the stairs, yelling for help at the same time, but a second later the man was grabbing her again, and while they were still fighting, Sara heard the cracking of wood, and suddenly the floor seemed to have vanished under her feet.

She already crashed onto the ground on the floor below before she had really understood that she was falling. Wood from the floor, or rather the ceiling from her perspective now, followed her downwards and Sara tried to protect her head.

Some moments later everything had turned silent, and Sara looked around. The dust had still not settled and even if it had, she would not have been able to see a lot, since the only way light was coming into the room was through a tiny window on the wall near the now broken ceiling and through the hole above Sara.

Sara tried to stand up but had to realize that her right leg was trapped. She felt pretty sore, but was quite certain that she had not broken anything since she did not feel the excruciating pain that should theoretically come with that.

Nevertheless she would have to wait for somebody to find her. Cold fear was running over her when Sara remembered the man who had fallen with her through the breaking floor. Where was he? He who had tried to kill her, tried to strangle her, just like he had done it with his other victims.

Sara listened carefully if she heard him anywhere. At first she did not hear anything but then she heard the man approaching her. She would not stand a chance against him, trapped as she was. Sara decided not to move, in hopes he would not notice her, and if he did, that he would think she was already dead, killed by the fall.

A moment later she heard him near to her and her hopes that he would not see her were dashed. She had to force herself to lie still and leave her eyes closed. 'I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead,' she was almost trying to convince him mentally, at the same time telling herself what she feared her fate was.

Then she could feel him close next to her. He touched her on her hips and Sara still did not move.

Then his hand found her throat again.

**TBC**


	13. A Beginning

_**Thanks to Emmithar for the beta! **_

* * *

**Chapter 13: A Beginning**

Sara could feel her heart racing, by now unable to move, although her brain was screaming at her to do something.

When the man's hand touched her throat, she swallowed involuntarily.

Then his hand was suddenly gone and a moment later Sara could feel how somebody was working to get away the balk that was trapping her leg. Another second later it was gone and Sara drew herself into a sitting position.

She still could not see much in the twilight but what she saw made her for a moment doubt her sanity, or at least her vision.

"Greg?"

"Hey there," he smiled. "Are you okay?"

"I could ask you the same question." She was quickly up on her feet and hugging him. "Oh my god, I thought I'd never see you again." Relief was washing over her.

"I was worried there for a second as well," Greg admitted and Sara realized that he had been checking for her pulse.

She let go of him and looked around nervously. "The perp, he was here."

"The perp who killed that woman above?" Greg asked, pointing to the floor over them.

Sara nodded. "He was here. He attacked me…"

Greg walked over to the other side of the room slowly, followed by a quiet plea from Sara to be careful. Some moments later he was back.

"He's dead," he stated. "Probably broke his neck when he fell down here," he added, looking up to the hole in the ceiling. Sara came close to him again.

"Are you okay? You never answered my question," she said. "What happened to you? What did she do to you?" she asked urgently.

"You know that it was a woman?" Greg returned surprised. "And yeah, I'm okay. I had some sleep and food on the plane and-"

"On the plane?" Sara interrupted him. "Where have you been?" Where had that woman taken him?

"In Florida," Greg replied. "I didn't even have time to go surfing," he added grinning. "Let's get out of here," he suggested then. "We can talk later."

Sara agreed and they made their way out of the house together and Sara noticed that several policemen were already walking through the building again.

"I had just arrived here when we heard the floor breaking inside," Greg told her.

She had a lot of questions for Greg. What had happened to him, and what had the woman done to him were only the first ones. Then there were the letters. Then how had he escaped? What had he done then? How had he gotten back to Las Vegas? Had he already informed the lab or even been there? Why had he come to the scene? All these questions and more were swirling through her head, but were even outweighed by the relief she was feeling. Greg was back, he was alright, it was better than anything she had hoped for.

They reported outside that the perpetrator was dead and that he was probably the person that had been witnessed carrying the body inside. Sara had to leave the scene behind for now, as it was too dangerous to work it before the floor had been stabilized.

"Where do we go?" she asked Greg, when they had arrived her car. Noticing that there was no other car from the lab, she added, "How did you get here?"

"Brass dropped me off," Greg replied. "He got me from the airport and when I asked after you, he told me you'd be working the scene here. I was then suddenly very keen on getting into the swings at work again quickly," he told her smiling. "And we'll go to the hospital," he added. "You need to get checked out after your fall."

"It's you who needs to get checked out after…," Sara argued.

"I'm alright."

"I'm alright as well," she declared.

Greg grinned. "Okay, I let them check me out, if you let them check you."

"Okay." She was just on the way to climb into the car on the driver's side, when Greg asked, "Can I drive? I spent five days on the passenger's seat."

On that Sara could not say no of course. She guessed that she would drive seldom in the next time. That all was not important though. Important was only that Greg was safe and sound.

"I don't want to press you," Sara started, when they were on the way, "but I wouldn't be opposed to a lot of talking from you at all."

Greg nodded, much more earnestly than before.

"I guess it's best to start at the beginning… I came out of the lab that morning and was just in my car… Brass told me they found it… when I had suddenly a gun at the back of my head." He stopped, and Sara had time to let it sink in. "She forced me to drive somewhere. We changed cars there and she drove from then."

"She?"

"I never learned her name," Greg replied quietly. "I spent most of these five days cuffed to the door on the passenger's seat," he continued and Sara let out a gasp, stopping herself in the last moment from reaching over to him. Greg continued to tell her what had happened and she was pretty sure that he told her everything, or at least almost everything. What he did not really mention was how his captor had treated him, so she asked after that.

"What did she do to you? How was she?"

Greg thought about it for a moment. "She was … random. She called me her companion and seemed most of the time rather concerned for me. She gave me food, drinks, even a pillow at night… My presence seemed to be enough for her…"

They were pulling into the parking lot of the hospital and got out of the car. Since they were obviously no emergency, they had to wait for quite some time in that they did not continue to talk about Greg's abduction though since there were other people around.

Later, after they had both been checked out and the doctors had determined that Sara had only some bruises and that Greg had suffered muscle straining in both his arms, which would all be gone in some days, they walked back to their car and picked up their earlier conversation.

Although the questions after the content of the letters were burning inside her, Sara postponed these.

"How did you get away?" she asked instead, another question she had wanted to ask urgently. It was the first time that Greg was really silent after she had asked a question. He started the engine of the car again and drove off the parking lot. It was after they had pulled into traffic, that he answered her.

"We were watching the sunrise at the east coast," he started. "It came very sudden that she pointed her gun at me and talked about that all good things have to end and that I had been a good companion." He was silent for another moment. "I thought she would shoot me," he told Sara. "I'll never forget this image. One moment she was pointing the gun at me, the next moment she put the gun against her head and pulled the trigger."

They both were silent now, Greg apparently in thoughts and Sara not knowing what to say.

"I had me eyes shut when she pulled the trigger, so I didn't see how… When I went back to the car I avoided looking at her… It's strange… I see bodies every day at work, but I couldn't look at her…" Greg continued finally. "I didn't find a phone in the car, so I drove with it into the next town to the next police station I found. The crime lab of Jacksonville went then out to get her body… They knew who I was. I gave a statement and was then quickly on a plane back to Vegas. They said they knew where to reach me if they had more questions. They were pretty easy on me."

"Understandably," Sara interjected. There had been a death that had to be investigated, yes, but Greg was the victim in the whole thing after all. They could not hold him back from returning home, and they probably did not want either.

"I called the lab of course. Didn't they call you then?" Greg wanted to know.

Sara shrugged. "I guess they tried, but I wasn't exactly reachable out in the desert."

"What did you do there?"

"Work."

"What else," Greg smirked. "I guess you've worked the five days through?"

"Pretty much," Sara admitted. "I slept a bit of course, but you didn't expect that I could do anything else when I don't know what happened to you," she said. "Catherine and I were in Utah."

"You were?" Greg pulled up the car near the lab.

"Following the track of your first letter," Sara explained, before she realized what meant bringing up this topic.

"The letters," Greg said simply, and Sara looked straight forward onto the street. Greg turned off the engine.

"She forced you to write them, didn't she?"

Greg nodded.

"She forced you to make those things up?"

"Yeah, she was pretty crazy." After a moment Greg added, "Some of it is true though."

Sara smiled sadly, looking out of the passenger's side to hide that. "Yeah, we had our first date three months ago."

"Yeah. But there is more that's true," he smiled at her and she turned to him again. Greg let out a small grin and opened the door on his side, climbing out of the car.

"Do I really want to go in there?" he wondered aloud, pointing at the building of the crime lab.

"Everybody will be glad to see you," Sara said, after she had gotten out as well.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"There isn't even everybody here, I think," Sara calmed him. "Grissom's probably here, I don't know about Nicky and Warrick, but last time I checked Catherine was still busy following you through the country," she explained, while they walked slowly towards the entrance.

* * *

Two hours and many explanations later Greg let himself fall onto the couch in the break room. It had been a definite advantage that he had called the lab from Florida, so it did not come as a shock for most of the people who had gotten notice that he was back. Still people had asked many questions and Greg had tried to explain as much as he could. 

Now things had calmed down a bit. Sara had left to get some take-out so that he did not need to live off the sweets the vending machine was offering, since Greg had decided to stay at the lab this night at least until their whole shift was there, and until Catherine was back; she had been on the go in search for him after all.

"Hey," he was greeted from the door, and turning to the entrance Greg saw Sara smiling at him. She walked over to the table and laid the food she had brought on it, sitting then down on the chair that was nearest to the couch.

"You brought something nice?" he asked.

"Exactly what you wanted."

"That's good."

Sara smiled sadly, silent for a moment, before she said, "It's almost as if it was a long terrible nightmare."

"It's a bit more real for me," Greg pointed out.

"Oh, Greg. I'm so sorry," Sara apologized quickly, her brows furrowing.

"It's okay," he ensured her, "You know another thing that is true?" he questioned, referring to his letters. "I'd forgive you for everything. Or almost everything."

Before Sara could come up with an answer to that, they heard somebody knocking on the open door, announcing her presence. Catherine smiled at him as well, then coming over to hug him.

"It's so good to have you back," she said cheerfully.

"Everybody's been saying that," Greg grinned lightly. Catherine gave him another hug, before she turned to the door again.

"We'll talk later, okay? I have to go and check on Lindsay, I've been gone way too long…" she sighed. "I guess you and Sara have still a lot to talk," she added, throwing a glance at Sara that Greg did not quite understand. Catherine said goodbye and Greg and Sara were alone again.

"What was that about?" he wanted to know.

"On the drive back from Utah…" Sara started quietly, "I told her about it." She was avoiding Greg's gaze now.

"It?"

"What I've done," Sara answered sadly.

Greg did not have to think twice about what it was.

"As I said before Cath came: I'd forgive you almost everything."

"Well, almost." Sara looked up to him again, gripping the side of the chair she was sitting on.

"Well, one thing I would probably not forgive you," Greg explained earnestly. "is cheating on me w-" 'With Grissom' was what Greg had wanted to say half-jokingly, but he stopped himself in time, realizing that this one might still be a sore spot for Sara. It took him another moment until he noticed what he had actually said.

"This one won't be a problem since we're not together, you know," Sara stated with an expression that Greg could not quite make out.

"And if we were?" he tested the waters.

"It wouldn't be either," she ensured him carefully. This was actually not the question Greg had wanted to be answered. That Sara would cheat on him had never been his worry and had never caused the problem with trust between them. How Sara would treat him at work was the issue. That he could not trust her there she had already shown. But she had apologized by now, had surprisingly even told Catherine about it. Catherine would probably pay even more attention now, if ever a case like that occurred again.

But Sara had promised him the day he had been abducted that he could trust her, and he wanted to believe her. And some parts of the letters he had written Sara were really not made-up.

"I guess you never got around to call me?" he asked, smiling at her.

"I tried, but I didn't reach you, because…" she replied quietly.

"Why did you want to call me?" he inquired sheepishly.

Sara smiled at him now. "I wanted to invite you for dinner."

"Wanna try it again?"

Sara looked at him for a moment, before she stood up, turning to the take-out she had brought with her and that had been forgotten until now.

"Would you like to have some hopefully still hot take-out dinner with me?" she invited him, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Anytime," he agreed, smiling broadly. He sat down next to her, while Sara unpacked the food. "Is this a date?" he tried to clarify.

Sara grimaced. "I guess." She moved Greg's food over to him.

Greg picked up a plastic fork. "Wow, we're really sad if we have our dates already at the lab."

"I'm just afraid we won't get paid this as OT," Sara pointed out, smiling.

"Darn," Greg chuckled, reaching over with his free hand to rub Sara's back lightly. "That would have been neat."

It was a beginning.

**The End **

* * *

_Thanks for reading and replying to this story and thanks again to Emmithar for enduring my horrible grammar when I had once again too much fun with this story. :P_

_As the last words already implied this isn't quite the end here, but there'll be a sequel._

**_Attachment - As Greg and Sara's relationship develops, not only Greg wonders if he can trust her, but Sara does as well, when an uncanny familiar case makes her question what lies inside her. _**


End file.
